Zeeshan Hafeed

The Jo Blow

Zeeshan Hafeed
The Jo Blow

27 Plays

21 May 2020

We snap those carcasses Hang them in decorated canvasses Thinking we descendants of Artemis Calling ourselves artisans When I was a yungin, I saw myself Jugglin’ My pants were lean, nothing in it was Jigglin’ If you mind my thoughts, probably you’re infringin’ They take me for granted, Like a bunny enchanted I’ve evolved man, like an Anabantid, Imma come at you like a witch disenchanted Sold a piece of me to make a living While y'all celebrated thanksgiving Colonists serving cranberries in casserole was the beginning We've been hating our own kind, That is quite misgiving Sorcerers, exorcists, terrorists preach an invisible god Fall prey to the hymnal ballad Now, increase your thought flow like you sniffed on some golden rod “Do for Love”, that’s the word of god We skeptic bout the anorexic in a pandemic These pathetic MF elected, dyslexic Asking us to inject antiseptic to the dead hopin a resurrection We're no Jesus to be into crucifixion We snap those carcasses Hang them in decorated canvasses Thinking we descendants of Artemis Calling ourselves artisans Motherfuckers stop your pretentious pretending We ain’t defending shit, condescending Prick, sitting on your ass, depleting Concede defeat fore the mighty force comprehending

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4 years ago

We snap those carcasses Hang them in decorated canvasses Thinking we descendants of Artemis Calling ourselves artisans When I was a yungin, I saw myself Jugglin’ My pants were lean, nothing in it was Jigglin’ If you mind my thoughts, probably you’re infringin’ They take me for granted, Like a bunny enchanted I’ve evolved man, like an Anabantid, Imma come at you like a witch disenchanted Sold a piece of me to make a living While y'all celebrated thanksgiving Colonists serving cranberries in casserole was the beginning We've been hating our own kind, That is quite misgiving Sorcerers, exorcists, terrorists preach an invisible god Fall prey to the hymnal ballad Now, increase your thought flow like you sniffed on some golden rod “Do for Love”, that’s the word of god We skeptic bout the anorexic in a pandemic These pathetic MF elected, dyslexic Asking us to inject antiseptic to the dead hopin a resurrection We're no Jesus to be into crucifixion We snap those carcasses Hang them in decorated canvasses Thinking we descendants of Artemis Calling ourselves artisans Motherfuckers stop your pretentious pretending We ain’t defending shit, condescending Prick, sitting on your ass, depleting Concede defeat fore the mighty force comprehending

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