Published on May 20, 2012
FROM N A U S E A FAKE FOUR SUMMER 2013
Shaking rosaries with babyheads instead of crosses
Bad inflating karma shaking earth is birth to blacking
human beings flooding past us with extended sleeeping
all my lands is fucking deaf now home is over yonder
I have your back if you is at the point of wall and black kid
Or if your ceiling is your carpet and its static traffic
Ill keep my arrows well inflated to protect my tribe
we are alive i am alive and walking tough as fuck.
I am the foster to our roots and prove with noisy writing
Ive been through lashings and even monsters respect my breathing.
and now your heading to dark cloud and rain is slapping
the look of human is overwhelming when your existing
and this why im so distracted candy fat kid
cause the bodies around me are leaking feather acid.
so were last its not that bad my block is blasted in Rock
Blacking flag is holding posture sad and plasterd in shock.
When I was baby i was...God naked.
Fuckin Tribal No weapons No Horror No.
Ancestors bleeding out my back Bathing me in karma
gone black spilling every blood on me.
before i had the gut to yell. I kept it well.
And then my baby learned to burn me
I saw glowing spiders dangling in pitch dark desert.
then remembered that my life was always fucked.
Keep you eating in violet vomit and bleeding inside...
Bad black with some gothic polish and clowning your ride.
slip a disc in this horror flick and bitch to your death
smell the bodies Tryna rip you down earthing You..
the negative space laced trip happy downer black balled
From the trees making big leaves small. Look At me....
Im bout to piece in to the 20 after.....cutting you by fanging
at the grip and airing out your tweeters.
All Over Small Shit
Non returned email
stolen sound bites and an itch to really end yall
Yall Get money
monster gets garnished
Monster Goes Tribal
Tribal By static