Some Way Out Dope

Third Rail Numbers On The Traffic.
Killing A Couple 'Ery Day
Just No Press.
No Copy.
Just Electric Streamers Like Mayday.

I Could Re-Write The Hunger Games Or Re-Invent Payday..
I Risk VerMillion Psalms, Give Elegance Away. And Demonstrate The Real 3D With A Little Taste..
Whatever Frame I'm In,  I Could Be Tillin' em, Building Playboy Mansions Everywhere And Filling 'Em.

Putting Tailored Suits On Rouged Chapters,
Buttressed Like Stratfordifications,
On Another Shakesdown.
No #please. just $ and your knees.
then wide release and, and oh God.
heh.

Too $trong For This. This ASAP Build-up Shit.
Gimmie The Money.
Kill That Longing Feeling Of What I Could Do.

killer gonna lay paint, astral rainbows and such,
This Spectrum A Little Faint For Wisdom Tarantino Snarls Kinda Thing, so uhh.. ya lay doa and beg.

Maybe James Taylor Lips, Stacks,
Where The Streets Love Kinda Love.
Bombs UP!
Get this kid, get the edge on the soundtrack to the next youth movement, UP!
Ha.

Want it straight,  no cut?
Read Nov. 15
Call em uhh.. adventurous bars.
Still nothing on the coming up 2ndSun.

Meantime..
Get what this means, meant:
not always always in control? no, but you gotta sink in, let it wind up, and even then, you get to choose to lose it.
peace, bless hefè again, for the electric lines and for kicks

blistering killer of robot men, not even a pen, no ipad neither, not today anyways..
Just a place, among men.
Again.