Eyes'O Me

I'm spitting a fly rhyme, lethal it's so like I'm 'a crime before it happens.

People crowding the patterns so I can't see what is captivating the masses.

Taxes trap-ulating the dark part of maps and taking part in Voodoolising the sashes.

Who do I sing when you die by only realising what's happening to you, while I'm clapping. I'm rapping, singing a song to you. "Do, do da, la' I'm 'ma looking to be killing the Dalai Lama with 'an arm-bar by the reading of my palm scar.

I'll be deleting the reminder of a time before remnants of a dinosaur with no compassion that I redesigned the thought of no one believing that slime of talk.

It's why I stalk the why of walk of life I report as receiving a slice of small reprise because of smaller eyes under the order of the all watchful eye. No surprise.