Candy

i like the rhythm when the rhythm's writhing harder

than an anorexic epileptic choking on a candy-bar

like it's a hard-on. Spits it raw

rewind reverse attack guffaw

relaxes back so faggots had a chance to slurp it like a straw

depants his average rappers passions. sassafras or cherry malt

adequate cant advance a rappers canvas. sugar-coaters fall

that hook's to lure the fishes too viscous with bitches that declaw

and snips his wriggling inches, no stitches, till knight's too roused to crawl

I'm baiting you. Wait? What?

Is such n such too flustered to creep up under the aqueduct?

Did mamma stuff pumpkin's lunch with a bunch of fuckin crunch n munch?

So fuckin much that pumpkin can't come up with food that isn't junk, no sustenance?

Trouble is that common sense says a culture of hominids too sugar high on Ritalins

to recognize the hand that feeds is spoonin em all marshall-mallow, candy sans the AlphaBits.

I ate em all and spit more in my refuse when i get the shits

while imitating Lil Wayne knowing what a thesaurus is