Gangster of Disbelief - Themselves

Is there a set day to your ever

A lost and now stole to your ember

An eaten, from which you may not survive

Yet this undeath shall not divide you… two…

Into as many wolf mouths as you might feed

Or hit record oblivion

A deep dark themselves

From which you and jeff would never be friends again

And I am awfully fully aware of this

After all

Hell is only a furthest extension of all fairness

Sysiphus got rock I’ll get mine… in due time

And every day I’m…

And every day authors die from falling…

You see what I’m saying

When authors die from falling…

This is a slave world, of fine bedding and big funerals

Stuffed with the husks of sons, followed by roman numerals

And the ancient dragon of privilege…

Yeah but does it guard them or eat them

Tell me which is it…

They are the thing of whips

What was once crown has become

And they come in every color and from

Everywhere greed grew strong in ape

And in such sad math the future was ate

Until not a single thinking thing on a tectonic plate has been safe since power

or the ordinary cunt coming of kings

My people have been only on strings

And somehow my great grand dad guilded hats

So that I could build stronger straw homes from ____(blank) rap

Better men and women from selves

And clear mind diamond mines of their personal hells…

Cause nothing quells the

E-m-p-t-y once it class pictures your ass

Sat in the still chariot of class

Verse reins and all time

Things will grind so I song mine

Out and it does deal with the death in the venom

But doesn’t cure me of the darks when I’m in em…

Do you get down

To the sound of guns decomposing

The blood in your songs gone mud in a landfill…

We don’t play on graves cause there isn’t room

Besides it’s uneven often that slants and fools come

Its True somehow

The MP3's shown me how the humble bee must feel

When your prime is what your ending wields

When your environment, it eats you…

Vernor is it true

What you jungle said…

Do the Birds just yell in all their hell

While insects shout out death with all their legs.

If so I hope I throw it fang up at the darkness till it shuts on my guts and,

small fame

To know we all Last sleep the same

And that it in fact does all go black…

When the day stops calling your name

Giving you back

To the absence of your laugh in this world

And all things sick that your shell did pearl…

In defense and a middle class lack of suspense

To the pit or picket fence fate your life careers off into

Do you see what I’m meaning

Your sons numb, your daughters demons

Run deeper than their affections…

I’m a good gangster of my dis-beliefs

Unwooden goodened gangster of his disbeliefs

Overtooken goodened gangster of his dis beliefs