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SHEEPISH LORD OF CHAOS
10-23-2007, 11:07 PM
Been seeing death since I was a seedling
How you gonna tell a boy he ainít dying/
When he was the living epitome of the walking dead
I walked the halls of school wit medical problems/
Festering from respiratory to this hellish prison Iím in right now
Iím trapped in my own body wit no where to go/

How am I gonna grow if I donít got the roots to sprout
How am I gonna speak my mind when I ainít got the platform

Even though I got this rap shit on lock
My poetry is still my heart, whenever I write rhymes come wit a delight/
You canít get life decaffeinated, so why all the censorship son
Why all the hate, why canít we congratulate instead of disrespect each other/
Whether you come wit the intellect and a purpose like Nasí next LP
Whether you aptly title anything wit the intent to do right instead of ills/
So when Iím driven wild like Com and Lily my spit be silly wit words
Willing killing the thesis spitting it knee high wit words thatís sky high/

How am I gonna fly without wings
How am I gonna rhyme without words