rhymes oftentimes climb the divisional lines ripping open peripheral paradigms that when it sit in your stomach pain seeps but you love it and want it but still you wanna vomit between the car that stopped and cornershop all lit up cuz in a pocket lies a couple o rocks that if the cops i hear rolling up the block for the donut shop that just got robbed is not a problem that i plan to entertain or attempt to resolve it, cuz i will disarm spin kick pistol whip and send the whole clip through the ears eyes and dick or clit of everybody that lead the party to try it, cuz there are so many things a part of life worse than fighting or dying. living for the battle as im fighting for my soul tyring to reap a harvest on what i borrowed or i stole obtaining anxiety,creating turmoil, im stirrin the pot, but dinners' my goal so steady as i go ill wait until i know im never ready for the warfare about to unfold or kind of character i should uphold overcome evil,but little good in my soul pray im not taken by darkness whole but the one thing i keep running from is that mirror on the wall. all reflected light leaves an all consuming sole, shoes hard to fill but fit for the ensuing goal. mission acomplish it wishin, there was no prison in this life that is given, they can have it, ill be making my own.