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Old 05-09-03, 12:28 PM   #1
LaRyan Shabaz
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Meandering Message to the Girls

IP:

Third Open Mic, I expect you won't feel it once again.
It's just what came out of the pen. Some babbling of myself, mostly just a bold message for the female graduates out there going off to college. Don't do silly shit just because nobody's watching, your peers can be the strictest teacher you've ever had.



Wax works when we wonder this museum/
Muse and ponder on my life in ruin/
I'm a shoe-in to get in on anything you're doing/
Who wins when I pin my own shoulders under life's water/
Like a group rape holler: "hold her harder!"/
When they mate in after liquor melts the ice on which you skate, thin/
Why do you shoot shit with no permit in your history to reveal mysterys to this pervert/
Neither of you deserve it, no need to PERMIT him in/
This type, conditioned to hitting his own kin/
The type to make us ask what state we're in/

My plates clean, thank the Lord!/
Divine Inspiration absorbed?.../
I swore in his name, oh, but with it... shit, I'm through!/
I was in vain, then profane, but check two bars back, now I ask is it the fault of me or YOU?/
Ah, shattered dreams.../
That fragmented mirror in which pieces of your stagnent self are seen/

Do You remember what I was tryin'a hammer at/
Before the tangent sprung the circle and my stammer spat?/
Aha! Take on me, I was gonna suggest how to work your life out/
Before they merk you out of sight, now/
How can you say chau/
As you walk into a pad fulla dudes never known to you before now?/
Never met? Call it a hunch, in fact I might bet on it/
They've spiked the punch in order to get their pet on tits/
Tee-hee-hee, where is your sweattah?/
"Dog, her eyes rolled back—but she aint got no mo wettah!"
Pass out quick or they'll pass out the Kick Cola, roll your sweet ass over/
And crush your can, slap hands and scream "Who's the man?!"/
Or maybe crunk a Punch sub, toss you in the tub/
Just to see the unmeasurable pleasurables that reside/
In getting tail that ain't yet revived/
And fuck just your can full of worms, your opening a jar of readily spreadible VD/
The edible aftermath of giving head to strangers while on E/
Kid, you've got the gift of glee, let's mend the rift between/
Here's my wall-et, take it to the mall; it's ample for a shopping spree/
That's cheap next to the cost of therapy from a night of sodomy/
And it's easier to produce my pennies than observe the struggling strife of life limited by HIV/
It might not shock your parents, but my two cents makes much more sense/

fin.

Feedback furiously encouraged. I'm sure I'll be upping the hell out of it.

Last edited by LaRyan Shabaz : 05-10-03 at 01:32 AM.
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