Temple
• Written by LucidLucifer
Silent eyes wide he snort up some LSD
blade at his side as hear societies lies
no time to bide he turn off the tube LCD
swat off flies walk the park after the sun dies
kickin in the acid step on mary janes ashes
blunt added he placid nose drippin with blood
bunt at the plate imagined gettin mind flashes
punt a beer in a bin before treadin dry mud
unlike two bucks spent couple hours before
struck the schmucks bill a weak lame duck
sanguine rains black when feathered wings soar
whack an avian with sacks from a shotgun buck
within the sane one malice without his mind palace
the all seeing eye under aurora borealis
shakespeare chronic never heard these rhymes
Lucid stole his sonnet scheme for a short time.
Trekkin over the hill and through the woods
wreckin white pills enhances the goods
lay down on the incline by the railroad
relax and try to rhyme for a hookah smoking toad
hashashin passin bars just like he pass joints
assassin insignia his wrist on point
readin dark latin thus he turnin foes ashen
slay a dragon he imagine high on windows of acid
Train rollin quick in his self prescribed trip
plain trollin sick he dissin those who denim rip
now its time to mourn all the foolish highborn
murdered by a lowborn like Egypt's firstborn
bloody from his nose blood drippin on stones
sane with clean clothes in the dust of the train
mask he adjust like the scarf of Sherlock Holmes
then he thrust truth upon the masses insane.
Fresh up on the block with my homies I'm trippin hittin
punks like a glock and its their blood I'm sippin
sanguine, my brother that's the colour of the night when
I'm ridin bangin lovers of my foes outta sight.
Hidin in the bushes with a sick and cruel grin doin
scene girl twins and some indo juice and gin win
competitions in makin love like it's sin on
an altar of sanguine and high elf skin.
It's all in my head all these tales that I weave writin
misery and grief but you look in disbelief at
this gothic creepy geek flowin like a floatin leaf and
doin mad weed every day of the week.
Walkin like a pimp cause I don't got a limp one
my piece aint a shrimp but it isnt like a blimp gun
know I aint a Sim I'm higher than Tiny Tim, son
my future's less dim but more odd than otters pun.
Don't sleep on Lucid bro you know he's not stupid yo
he rhymes less putrid and he's not your cheatin snoopin ho
know that he's illusive now his rappin is fluid wow
and he shootin Cupid the druid has proven useless, Pow.
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About the Artist
LucidLucifer
Member since October 3 2015