View Single Post
Old 11-14-2011, 08:15 PM   #36
Inspektah Meth-Tical
Posts: n/a

He who's living in vain, though it's given us blang
And paints life in image, gimmicks in this splintering frame
Tainted gift, that fallen angel clipped, crippled and lame
Limpin for sympathy, bitch-like, but his riddle's his name
His fiddle dribbles out the brittlest twang, the vain cynical
Derail the faith train to enflame your fame, literal
Brang pain, vain to maintain the slaves brains
And claims of brave ways, but can't stay safe and hidden though
It's either beefin or vegans or white Jesus in the middle road
Posed for sold simpletons
Frozen in a glimpse of hope
Focus dimmed and interscoped
Floatin winter's splintered boat
Notice hiss in intervals
Lotus twigs and integrals
Known as bitch to flitty hoes
Golden grip and fixing votes
Sold us six in Christmas "ho's"
Broken scripts and videos
Jokin jist skinny bows
Locin shitty city folk
Hopin if the kiddies quote
They'll see him as the pinnacle
  Reply With Quote