Drop the beat, the heat, slide the wisdom to the streets. DOOM the funk like unwashed feet or some ole skunk meat. The El Dorado, gold crease, please the teddy bear market with ease. Decease or desist. Drop it like it’s hot ’til the heartbeat cease. Roll up on it like Thought in a spaceship. Can you dig it? Like its wicked. Yo, shorty over there, she can definitely get it.

We wear our hearts on our sleeves. Gliding in on the breeze, contagious like an idea or a disease. The feminine bounce of her hips squeezed, teased into and stretched out the blue jeans. Mami sweets. Swiss miss, sugar coated, full lips, kiss. Like puh-pow, kapow, fireworks sound-ing off. What now? Nearly drowned, in the chemical emotion like potion, church revival devotion, afterward resurrected zombie motion.

Scan it, pan it, the camera, don’t damage it. That wack shit, can’t stand it, stomach it, bum ache fish on a Good Friday. Now say something. Play dumb then. Confounded when I brung ‘dem rhymes, many times, to tickle your eardrums and mind, like the sublime, melodic, hypnotic, erotic ear notes, dope, delicious, fresh like Scope. This shit ain’t no joke, if you want that smoke, then lean into the slope. Intersecting the y, ask why, coming into that right hook, angle high, bank and bounce into the sky, salute me when you pass by.

Wait! That can’t be the truth of what we feel. Still some people are always running around shouting keep it real. Peel the label off the skrill. Let these cats know we already know the deal. The ill, the skilled, drill sergeant, touching down on the pavement, gotta be mos’ heaven sent, the human torch, super human, homosapien,

These cats is nice? These cats is the worst. Hit ’em with a dumb flow, slum curse or a yasin bey hypnotic verse. Keep it gutter or keep it cutter, the bars stay butter. Flash the pearls make her heart flutter. Sly, butterfly Make it funky, oatmeal lumpy, catch that smoke and end up bumpy.

Page Bettie to the stage, bust free with rage, subtle trap, wise sage. the mental locked inside the cage to always show ’em who the best be. Do ’em so nasty, crazy, force the crowd to turn away, saying its a travesty. The sexual enterprise, she gets me, yet so zesty. Let’s see. The eyes and smile are so Fibonacci.

The golden ratio, silver tongued Horatio. Nobody move on him until I say so. A dangerous garden gnome, a leprechaun known to kill for his gold. Chocolate faced-ed Destro. The more you know, swarm the lames like GI Joe. Go Joe. Make it fast, make it slow. Disfigure his rhymes, so nobody’ll know…

It was me. I did this to you.

by malakhai.jonezs

(C) Copyright 2019