I am off it.
The faucet I keep running while I’m sauced in,
With prompt and,
A pen and a journal where I flaunt this,
Talent I’ve been handed to a pair of palms that,
Used to want to die,
Now wants to live while I floss raps.
Have your teeth grinding while I call cats,
Out for the pussy that they are while I maul rats,
Silent while I bob my head to the God that,
Speaks to me while I Talk that,
And walk that,
What does it all mean I’m,
* I never thought I’d meet someone like you… *