Tag Archives: journal

Odd Future

They said I got a future, odd future gonna kill them all
Advice to ghettoise me, council hall
Playing a game, lacrosse, when they know I can ball
Don’t want to give the drummer some, it ain’t how they roll
All souped to speed past, it’s how they bowl
Call it autumn strike rate, my pedest fall
I’m red and sore, my head is raw
I’m not lion rich, I am bear paw
This eagle saw his eagle claw
Sharpened up his iron to blind them with a metaphor
It was cheesy season, like pizza breeze
Sold him every reason, one word sale of the 7 C’s
So he believes, he found his level,
Etched a sound, got an echo
Stamping ground, found a gecko
Angel in plain clothes, wrestled a devil
Took his head off, wouldn’t let go,
Decapitated, he was animated, selling vision
Restless chicken, he was built for giving
Resurrection, better living
This blessing was, born for stretching
That it did, yet the season stressed him
He got a taste, kept the bottle
American Histoy X’d him, full throttle
Called this apostle Chipotle flavoured Aristotle
Exotic carb the damned falafel too sweet to waffle,
Pigged out on truffles, learned to love the troubles
Hand n’ Heart like the Williams Sisters, Power doubles
Still its my level, not my arena, let me reign, I’ll bring Katrina
I need no pre-nup,
Caretaker climb, I only clean up
Yes they slimed me, Ghostbusters
Me myself and I, family trusts us
To make nice, this odd future
Tie love creation, karma’s suitors
To get it in, tailor Karma Sutra
To Make Life this odd future

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The Couch

The Stronger my Ambition
Longer, harder the Journey is
Soul searching and Journal this
Researching like journalists
Heat Seeker arsenal I’m Sparring and spurning less
Boxing and Jarring yes
Spurring I’m arming best
Practice see there’s no white harte in this lane

Kill it not martyr lest
I barter my art in jest
Gold pounding my heart in chest
Treasure the hearty blessed
Moments so hard to get
Love keeps the heart in check
For wisdom boxed clever preserving this tardy wreck
Just tryin to keep my chart erect
Veering from why I’m elect
See rapping’s just a window pain
My life ain’t mete to burden blame when
will of the weak murders the profane

P.I. Like magnum ice
Want a shot of me pay the price
Toxic bars like Britney vice
Click clacking that’s just my type
Boom Bap’s just how it rides
3 syl a barrel sir name with a faction that factors Christ
Mack 10s grown over night
Celebrity is rolling dice
Pack of cards and poker nights
The house only wins if you control it right

Too many understand with their oversight
Clean off their soap boxes cos flow exposed their hype
Truth is a Thunder Bird, Parker bowling right
Solar rolled insight,
Capitalist phoenix parolled to light
Fallow fields, prodigal coals alike
Modal classic souls like me are sewn to write
Review the menu, choose a thought to bite
A taste to fight, feed a mind aka an appetite
See this skinny man’s living as he flicks out rhymes
I’m just Advised to Inspire, counsellor’s state of mind

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Diary

7 December 2009

He cut a disconsolate figure, proud black felt like a silhouette,

He’d once stood like a minaret, dressed minds like vinaigrette, yet he got tossed like salad and got smoked like a cigarette

Everybody called him Nicorette, his hope came and stayed in patches

He never lost his fire to inspire, in spite of job matches that didn’t see him as a catch

His

Mind never dropped the ball

Head was a whirlpool of hard falls, and big walls

Glass ceilings and doors, familial wars and sores from the pores opened up through feelings of being poor.

December 8, 2009

Felt like every time he tried to work the magic his electricity attracted energies that made him static not ecstatic

He wanted to be ex static using his laboured fruits to gain current, stay current, never need to be a feign lover, always a main lover, man you had love for

Big Brother, future husband, the brightened son that eclipsed the moon and made her beautiful

Inside he stayed truthful like the ocean knowing she will never be a dry mass

He took another class to be class, never cut class as while steadily defining his shape

He was blooming late photosynthesis took place at sunset,

The power of his flower was not enough he needed a run & gun threat

Less heart more head, of logic he was the balanced vet in the game

Politics was a sweet science like boxing yet he fought at range

His jabs hit veins but rarely drew blood,

He was an artist that couldn’t always harness his true love

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