The last line

This man went from a DONDA tier verse in the first half to a numerology-tied verse about f***ing a b**** in the second half

Goodness gracious this house is spacious
My diamonds racist but they super flirtatious
Bling blaow, how now brown cow?
Listening to dembow eating General Tsao
Look-a that-a way, Saint Jit, not the latter day
Sorry if my verse doesn’t make sense I’m completely scatterbrained
Making audiobooks with pictures
The last page is stickers
I’m gone off the lacquer
I don’t really drink liquor
The only part of this verse making any damn sense
Cuz the second I post these bars KTT gonna ban Jit

Pulling on the lever when all titulation falters
1-800-PUSSY we are not accepting callers
Women cling to buoys in these shark infested waters
Shotgun at the ready we must all protect our daughters
I thought I saw a p**** cat, wolf cut, cursive tats
Lured into an alley fulla fish bones, hurried rats
Man has never had an itch that he couldn't scratch
Thank your lucky stars if you only got your purses snatched

A woman in a duster in the park way after curfew
Sallies through the dark in a wanton act of virtue
Steering with a halo through the parts where be Cthulus
Eyes inside of bushes spying child bearing voodoo
These are not the wretched too rapt in their excesses
Executives and police; each and every intersection
Pulling at her coat instead of practicing discretion
From unwrapping a present to unpackaging a weapon
Halo off, duster falls, spider eyes, stunning claws
Gotta sate the hunger, jungle cats that butcher dogs
Yelp to no avail in the thunder of their purring maws
Salome with scissors; Judith at the eunuch's ball

#relatable

i’m living my raps

do one about perfume

me and my goons smell like that baccarat rouge
all of you fools smell like a bag of that poo
oh damn that’s just the ysl kou
my girl like me in roses and oud
i like that glossier you
creed cost me a week of your food
this baddie tryna f***, smelling like iris and musk
that is a must
she bring me real close she like dior on my clothes
this girl intense like the dior im sprayin

My weekend project. Inspired by this thread, Samuel Beckett, that kid in high school who used the synonym feature in Micosoft Word too much, etc.

i spray hard like perfume
stain hard like bloody wounds

draco spray like an atomizer
put you on a wall like an advertiser

Oh s*** I gotta dust the spiderwebs off the candelabra and polish the reading loupe for this one

Just updated the latest version. Still a work in progress.

did u do the drawings?

I can't draw for s*** so I chop stuff up in photoshop, print it, ink/color/texture it or whatever and scan it back in.

All the images I used

ima put all my diamonds
on my unborn son
god flow s***
if i have a princess
then somebody’s mama
gonna have to unborn one

Everything I Am

never spoke much as a child. Always assumed the audience would start laughing.
Such a hard bargain at four years old, with a developed ambition to wanna start rapping.
“Tell not a damn soul the dream you manifested”… Not that the thought ever passed me.
Mixed reactions met with audible gasping, though a mother should love her child and want them to be happy.
The sonogram showed a little boy in the summer of 1999, heart beat tapping, sonically satisfactory.
Years turn to days, with gazes that turn gaunt, visions that still haunt and attack me.
Outside influences distracting. Similar remarks to “Why aren’t you more like your older brother Zachary?”
Though I could have been a soldier, horns blast in the distance, very similar to those I think rap should consist of.
Finically reach for my pad where ten year old raps sit to this day. Tears simmer & begin to drip from my face,
reflecting on simpler days, struggling to flip the page. I feel the comfort from snares and drum loops,
as well as the potential I pissed away. Conflicted, should I drift away from this wicked game?
Or use a pen to inflict my rage, and begin to form scriptures administered from pain. I……
Still feel ugly inside. Little to no self belief, even though every multisyllabic scheme helps to release.
Was it all a dream, or am I seldom to those who watch over me. The watch tower’s clock ticks slowly for
every opened beat I looked over… all bark with no receipts. Often find myself, dreaming up punchlines
to settle scores over simplistic rhythms that fizzle to never more. Thinking of the girl I could never have,
& end up describing her on message boards with visual metaphors. I say farewell to those
who’ve lent a hand, and greetings to those that manipulated my kindness. I just want to be accepted,
and to be fully aware that my penmanship is greater than anything i have set to accomplish.

hard

b****es can get the d*** regardless, ion give a f*** what’s on they chest,
but if I catch her cheating, ima air the K out in public like I’m Kanye West.

they call me sponge
yeah im trapped in a gimmick
but i cant go back
no matter which way you flip it

I'm a human soul
trapped under the sea
Being on land
wasn't enough for me

shoutout mom and dad
patrick and sandy
they make life bearable
drink that kelp soda like its brandy

You spongebob, I’m Patrick,
We got the sea on lock,
U gone need more than a magic trick to hack this

hack that nawl hack me
making bumpin music
noxzema no acne
yall washed up
i remain usain bolt
at the track meet