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now its time to speak, the lyrical genius and truth of my twistig tounge turning words into tales of terror!
but i cant help it, like the tick tock of the black and white clock turning like the movements of a precsise perfected plan, tick tock all day by day.
i will tell you that my views are extreme , it think terrorists are madmen who should all be whacked, and even not being black i still spit my words and shit out onto the mic! sorry i slipped into rap,
a quick crack of societies whip and im back on track, shouting my thoughts and ideas in a blind rage as white hot words explode from my terrifying towering tower of thouht.
turning night to day, day to night , black to white , blowing all other ideas and perspectives out of the window as my precise points penetrate pious people peacfully praying!
Stop!
as all the ashes fall back to the scorched earth from where my lyrical supernova had just erupted settle into the seting sun,
and as i walk away i laugh, you shout back to me, but hey!
thats life for you and for me, as respectful as i try to be in the end i abruptly end like the tick tock stops when the battery finally dies in that black and white clock!
stop.