Yes, I like the rhymes.
All of us are born with the miraculous
ability to determine the direction
from which sounds approach us.
Let us venture into new and uncharted land.
People get shook up,
you know,
when I'm introduced as God.
My direction is up and down, left and right.
Try to follow, but you can't.
In my secrecy, I write.
Let the swallow new vocabulary.
Year round, it's March through February.
* a valentine.
I don't wear no boys in my mind.
I'm accustomed to being scary.
Never trust them.
I beat them,
make them buy me like a floppy,
thinking that I need them.
I just weed them out,
separate the dandelions from perennials.
Work the visuals.
I'm growing like the 20s.
Morning glories in my tummy,
plant the seeds to cut the money.
Ain't it funny?
I be sneaking water flowers on the weekend in the shower.
When I speak, it's savory sour.
Taste my garden for like hours and days.
Cut down the hedges from the maize,
marijuana leaves,
so we can roost it in the caves and blaze like every day.
I prosper like begonias in California.
Get depressed in the sun, less mess.
Just thought I'd warn you before I'm leaking starch from my chest.
Got no heart in the stem.
I'm the new breed trying to spread her pollen to the city.
Nevertheless,
they say I'm shitty,
ugly and unwanted.
Nobody want to * with me.
Yeah, I whirlwind through cities.
Influential, scientifical power.
My mental violence will shower,
devour at a crazy rate.
Ain't no way that I could do this on my own.
I'm growing closer to the sun.
I'm stuck to the floor and I'm kind of *.
Wish somebody would take the time to listen because I'm the illest.
Instead, they want to kill this.
Theoretically,
you think they want to help me,
but everybody's scared of change.
They envy because they are the same.
My discussions interrupt the mainstream of hip hop.
Bitch, I bent locks.
I get props,
torment and set pops on a guilt trip.
Yo,
I'm sorry,
but I really felt it when you left.
Hide my anger in the pain.
Seattle battles through the rain.
Glass scrubs paint the trains.
Get it tatted on my brain.
Vandalism eases pain.
Depressed like the 30s.
Very dirty.
Distract your vision like a lily.
I can still hit the billies.
Cut the holes.
Let them drown in the raps.
Eat the stems and the caps.
Mushrooms love the shade.
Lay my head down in the grass.
Change the path of my trip.
My mind is so clear and my vision so bent.
Free forces.
Heaven sent.
Omnipotent and wet.
Forget.
Just plain God.
I whirlwind through cities.
Influential, scientifical power.
My mental violence devours.