its in you, its in me
it's something only angels and demons see
its something the ancestors and legends and spirits heed
its something capable of meeting needs
its something i aint sure of, its kinda like a seed
but it characterizes your every move, and thought, and deed
it's sumfn you've gotta cultivate, and breed
it's the only reason why we flitch, get scarred and bleed
unto great men, it's a sacred creed
unto weenies and whimps, it gets them scared and rigid
but the human drive is nothing to be messed with
because besides mother earth's deep black soul
it's the only thing thats been around long enough to be tagged. . .old!

if i wanted to listen to an asshole, i'd fart

so am in my punk-ass seat watching BET
and am thinkin to myself. . . does anybody still love ET
cos i really did love the dude, the outerspace alien with little feet
whose fate lied in his very own heartbeat
it was then i realised an unseeming defeat
i learnt that growing up is only complete
when you admit, accept, acknowledge puberty's defeat

i mean
you used to love comics, and toon movies and looney . . . ryt?
and your worst time of the day was when you said goodnight
and your dad and your mom's words were the morning light
and you never really cared if you knew wrong from right

now it aint the same no mo
since that bitch called puberty walke thru the door
since she made spiderman, and the hulk and wonderwoman babytalk
and she got you loving a lady's booty, and boobies and blues, and rock
she pushed your comicbooks from the top of the shelf to the floor
right beside the dead robocop toy underneath your new bed

she didnt get to me tho, hA! am still my own king
so that explains why i dont do ladies, and shiny things, and Bling-blings
or why i dont fancy romantic evenings, and flowing gowns and diamond rings
it explains why i spit fate in the face and remix what each day brings
and it lets you know that i delight in my praises when i sing
cos besides animes, and special effects, and crazy things,
i'm an enigma of my own, i'm on hell of an irregular being!
ha!

delirious

present, past, future tenses
people, dogs, timeless pences
i'm sorta addicted to this lady and her sixteen senses
cos she reads, she writes and she melts my defenses
she makes me wish i knew her when she was still naive and senseless
just so that i could be the one to nurture her to her full potential's pinnacles
now she gets on the line and my mind babbles
my soul gets locked up inside the tower of babel
the "IDIOT" sign gets stuck on my head kinda like a label
and i kinda feel like i'm part of an unending sequel
like people, and friends, and goodness i repel
cos without her, living would be like glorious hell
in my head, her name is like an unending bell
so i'm lost in time, timless, a victim of her spell
she aint no fiction, my newest addiction
my one distraction. . . the killer of perception
its pretty obvious
i'm now even more unserious
but nomatter what you think
for me, she makes me delirious!

proud advice

understand the seasons, comprehend the times
change your font face from arial to the roman new times
push the space bar a few more times
bump you head to biggie or daughtry's lines
and find a way to fuse your soul with the lyric's spine
discover that spot that lets you see clearly with shut eyes
then put down that line that'll draw tears from the lady's eyes

sit up straight and stretch your fingers again
inhale, exhale, count one to ten
pretend you didnt notice the lions sleep in they den
act like you didnt steal one of the kids from the pen
evolve your dual persona till you feel you can send
your soul on an errand, your feet on a thriftspend
like many before me, i dunno where this will end

writing in a cafe means am stripping with eyes allover me
but i really dont care cos the shame's gone from me
like a lady whose been birthed, my decorum's gotta flee
so i dont feel bad when i scratch in public from the itching flea
i aint a dog tho, just a man like tree
towering tall above my foes and fears, and who i'm supposed to be
and bringing myself to that point were i'm your painkiller
you rock, your support, your strengthening pillar
your brother from another life, like the 24 year old teenager
your number one buddy, your cellie, your pager
i never hurry to do this, i'm hardly ever eager
cos people read this shit and label me a lyrical killer
quit squinting, yeeeaaah, whatever, cry me a river.

miasma

Okay, so i'm at that point in my life where i wish i could go back in time
to that point where i neither had a nickel nor a dime
but enjoyed the peace and comfort of one without crime
like a kid on london's streets bumping his head to the grime
or like a speedy download racing down the wire of lime
truth is, i cant explain how i got this far
but nothing else seems to make sense
and i aint sying that to my own defense
but this thing called stagnancy doesnt deem to relent
i has a sneaky way of jumpin the fences
and leaving me lost, empty, soulless, without feelings or senses
forcing me to view life through its messed up cracked lenses
confusing me with the illusion of strengths and weaknesses
lies, deciet, birthing new senses
that are insensitive to the person i once was
and destroying the image i try so hard to salvage
my mind is evolving, whilst my hormones rage
whilst my mind screams and squeals, and ripps out the worn out page
maybe i'm just too immature for my age
or i belong to and advanced alien lineage
watever it is, i've got a deadline
to figure it out before it drains me out

thats where i stand, now i bow out