Originally Posted by
.5KutSkeleton
burn tracks wrapped in leaves loose,
show and speak the proof and pose actions over composed classics
grown with a backwood's dust,
this old shaq throws a punch precisely, while these are free-throw lines my mind's spider has spun
flow like Ghost's Ice Water over righteous drums,
rotate the bolt's tighter and hold fire alongside MightyThor against the rush
a god's pen pinches paper,
spills it's nature intent on contamination of children's imagination
don't abandon your stations and chase lazy tails in a wasteland
this is a patient plan,
to men a day is ages, but to a god it's sand
I was diggin ur shit and I came up with this real quick.
No dis intended, I enjoy ur work.
Peace.
Bookmarks