Crushed Grapes

Sippin’ crushed grapes, penning on pressed trees

Killing the lust for papes, betting on fresh dreams

Rust flakes spilling from getting fresh streams

Cut lakes in half with my depth that speaks

Collect the flesh I need, the death I seek

I’ll make your grave full of my carbon ashes

Where I’ll commit arson on your song and spit charged up matter

Submit to me, your chatters are below the stepping ladder

The batters you pinching ain’t for this typa ink splatter

We grin with iller laughter, sleeping in Villas, reading chapters

7 heads and a beast and the rapture, ready for us to be captured

Plastered in the streets hung on beats and other platters

Brothers laugh without understanding certain truth of the matter

 

Understand my truth or you’ll be a stature

 

Yeah

 

You not tough for claiming you sprayed lethal rounds

When you lying cuz you were only bathing in reefer clouds

I’m just tryna ease em down, Kalligraphy on a run that’ll have Usain seethe around

These little giants tryna make the sky rain ether pounds

To try to disintegrate me cuz they can’t bare to keep me bound

But I live on through the CDs and upper echelons

You see thee who speaks, ye cannot rub upon

This typa needle and wax that’ll send em way back

The Beatles are whack, Isley Brothers on my tracks

Couldn’t stand another 9 revolutions coming from the wackest

So I took away all of that by using my brain and synapses

Lyrical exhibitions leaving miracles to be superstitions

Only one on the spherical spitting this much wisdom

 

The one who’s spitting a little too much wisdom

 

What do you live for? He replied “Bobcaygeon

Helps me get out of this world I’m so caged in”

A junkie becomes stressed when he lost his weed

His knowledge weeps as his wisdom leaks

Through the seams of his cut arms that bleed

Hindsight 20/20 you can see Kalligraphy universally

Spitting verbal palaces with maximum poetry

Tax the um…let the umbilical cord be pulled

The youth need the truths, adrenaline dulled

You can’t last if your mind is under a water fall

Unless your Left Eye than don’t let your daughter bawl

Was here since the Creation of the Genesis

The Genesis created Nas and then his nemesis

Smoke of the crack rock, who’s really heaven sent

Who’s really singing like a choir, bringing that Joan of Arc fire

My architecture remains live and soon it’ll be fired

If you think I’m a nerd, you better think twice

To make sure you drink to that, gin with the ice

Adoration of the magi lookin at me to do right

With the Caleuche wanting my life, time to write

That’s all my history right there, no pipes

No ice to smoke on, no eyes to somber or choke on

Just me, naturally, no pesticides, just solely me