emphatic spastic can visions envision forcefull refrain back into the public domain of livin.
they told me they're version of art was closest to art but i seen it was furthest from livin.
so i took that western aproach, black mask black hooded desperado,
give they own myth that heave-ho, flip-the-script of americana archetypes.
the rest of ya'll so called artists go paint layers of the same cube jus' fly a fuckn kite.
buncha gang-type-naysayer petty dikes, too, get ridof that rough boy tude
and just ride the wave. enlightened vision of colors fluid aint nothin to it stupid so get to it stupid.
I, writing this high on paint like I was high on paint. The planets look quaint from up here. Bump the stars and planets and plan-it plan-it plan-it. bump that new god rhyme and plan-it, bump those fuckn planets.
but now i walk down tunnels of greats, paint-louis no sequel, no 2008. halls of great men smattered by boy-toys. rough-kids rough-up-kids cus they're kids and i stand alone, can o nasty, can o nasty and one-microphone. just one tale to tell how that man lost his will & now the halls o greats i walk for miles and contemplate, damn, that same question, wherever i go, where did we fall, thats the first thing a man gotta ask himself to pick himself up at all.