I Lie low in this poetic home,
that i call my own dome,
cause im alone in these verses,
how could this be in this misery,
that worsens,
this is me these curses,
spit fluently through me,
for you to see,
these,
visual contextcees,
rewind the mind,
and try,
to find,
the meanings,
to this rhyme,
and cop this drop,
and print this on salteen,
dead trees,
sliced and diced,
woth this complex mind of mine.

__________________
I Beat Up Asshole Fathers For Free

My Space

Quote:

Originally Posted by Indeph Lyricalsolja you illy on the sickness tip.