Sunday, June 8, 2014

Medina Music

/From a brain full of Ritalin, concocting images, that leave grimaces up on my nemesis/ The genesis of a boy to man, cup of joy in hand/
As I implore unto them/ The game is SICK!/ Wheezing and frothing/ I'm NON-DESCRIPT!/ Just weeding my conscious/
/I'm extra-terrestrial/ Invading your stereo/ With a bit of celestial/ And a touch of ethereal/  I know my role and I play with it diligence/
/Hate in my heart that I reflect in my sentences/ I'm like "Where in the hell are the villains?"/ And if you cool, why in the hell aren't you chillin'?/
/I'm so eager, trying to bust up/ You'se a beaver, bout to tuck nuts/ It is what it is, you either killin' or not/ But me, I'm selfish/ Never revealing my plot/

/Now I....Won't compromise/
/I can look at ya baby, and I can see in your eyes/
/Now you....what ya wanna do?/
/There's a million chances and girl I just can't lose/
/What you wanna do?!!/
/Baby, what what ya wanna do?!!/
/There's a million chances/
/And I can't lose/


/3 day trip, man, my body is so numb/ She's three minutes in, I'm tryin' to hold cum/ Feelin' quite right, it's prolly the V.D./ She puttin' in work, Im' watchin' the TV/
Pussy so moist, you could soak in squeegee/Tell by my fuckin', I'm a fan of the Bee-Gees / Let's out a scream, that tells me that she's piqued/
/Asked if she was great, I reply with a teehee//Are there anymore seventy's baby?/ I'm geeked like a seventy's baby/ Bell-bottom jeans, shirt, taco meat/
/Plus she got a fresh cut and Mr. Socko's teeth/ /Chain smokin' cigs, watchin' P.B.S./ Peepin' Mr. Rogers, thinkin' "Man he's fresh"/
/L passed to me, I said not anymore/ In walked her Mom, I said "Not any whores"/