Relapse of the past (pt. II)
• Written by WordPlayHQ
I am unfairly treated. Still undefeated.
Set me on leaving step. Cruel dictatorships bleed.
Bottle in hand, wasted, in clouds went. Life Absent.
Barrel with chrome pointed to the top of a dome
Reason to breathe, long ago retreat. Slowly bleed
Death wishes have strength in number. Better in armor.
Well, no sweat labor. Hardknocks, do me a favor,
A lack of paper, a blink of a graveyard
Forgotten by my savior. Make me greater.
When I die, few will miss me. But one can't diss me.
After my body drops in a pond of worm blood,
the casket scrolls in a hole covered with wet mud.
Can spread they're glad that I am dead. I know no dread.
Decrease competition, firm cardinal friction.
The darker side of the moon, intentions like doom.
Mad villain, Puzo's Sicilian. Real I am.
Is it wrong to assume I'm in Danger groomed?
I put nine thicked with grime to skip up agony.
Battle with vanity. Music's a remedy.
The relapse of the past as a wicked rhapsody.
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WordPlayHQ
Member since March 20 2016