Oblivia

Hoarding in abundance of nothingness

Sitting before a buffet of knuckles and fists

I guess I’m ruffled a bit

Five fifths, and I’m no one’s property

Oh, you’ve been reading Nietzsche again?

Preaching will to power to social deviants

Who broke treaties in the sheep skin

Elbows ashin’

Shell toes matchin’

Ignoble savage in the Thraxxhouse with too much passion

Feasting off the Gulag’s rations

Hardly dedicated criminals

Whole team function like a faucet that also

Filters out the minerals

Mighty Negro with my spirituals

Ruby Yacht in its most bountiful miracles

Yanked from my shirt sleeve in the autumn of the patriarch

Arms full of lazy art

Arms full of lazy art

I don’t **** with Cubase

I don’t own a Cuisinart

Enough about me, though, who are you?

Wha-, What do you what?

[laughs]

What do you what?

What do you what?

[That is the-]

What do you what?

What do you what?

What do you what?

I’m under heather grey candle light

Wonder why I never play the satellite

Never had a kite

Or a spinning top

Project cinder blocks

Interlocked tight for the winter

Shopping at K-Mart

An adventure but I stay dark and ashy

Part jazz seed, head first, heart lastly

This is intent supplement

Government workers lurking

Frosted mullet tips

They ain’t never foolin’ me though

Distracted with incredible burritos

And some self help nonsense

Suppress it in the libido

I keep my chest protected like I’m D-Lo

Round as surround sound

I flourish though

Upside vertigo

Downtown sign where the line Color Purple go

My minds on the surface though

In a train car rewinding the circle slow

Mic check, mic check, open mic check

Shout out to Open Mike, milo

To the homies Ramel, CC, what up?

Y’all know what it is

I wear my heart on my sleeve

Keep condoms on my utility belt

Break continents when the rhymes spit are visually felt

Rhyme monstrous, felt pen tight, Tonka ****

Gin and tonic, chronic, hydraulic lift when I drop ****

Planetarium alignment axis, off topic, biopics, offensive line, carbon drop kick

High five the LA skyline

Hardcore hot ****, like the center of the Third Rock is

We got this locked since the triceratops

Tell a hippopotamus that hip hop is trioptic

Airing out the ostrich, underground hard ****

Tearing down walls with thoughts I spit conscious

Until my ‘campus feels accomplished

I wanna watch time tick sitting on my wrist

And sit calm for a sitcom, but I flow krypton

Knocking Superman on his feet with his kicks on