Dividing them like confederates,
Feeling Jonah Jet;
I dont give a fuck about my bad rep.
I'll roll it up like cigarettes
And blow it into your breath.
I'm a menace with a grimace
So devilish that angelic guardians
Are after my death.
But I'm armored,
Smithed at home and worn to school,
Bringing static like wool
To shock what you think's cool.
My tools breaks the rules
And bends cruel bows to crude hoes
Who walk down the hallway with more flows than water hoses.
Nagging and ragging on any aggrieved
Feeling fleeting towards frenzy,
That might as well be their own ending,
When they're presenting crimson ribbons
While ribbits turn into croaks,
They stroke the life line
That supplies my blood line past time.
I hope the ribbons don't wrap
Around their caps to suffocate or lack
Them fuel to their engine.
I hope delicate conglomerates don't dedicate
A headache to a misplaced kindling
While fiddling with their heart strings.
I really hope you can see
What is actually happening.
I'm not looking at a calendar
I'm looking at my watch.
No wanting another challenger
So I will just stop.
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