[Rendezvous.]

[/alt. 'DINOSAUR!]

My documents is glitching

Must be witchcraft

(Or Glitchcraft, my other alias)

As it's getting close to Christmas

*hoodness*

Niggas, man.

My butt keeps getting bigger, man

Suit up for the sermon

I haven't gone frgun surfin as Sunni

Since SupaSunday survs.

Ahem.

Fuck Starr Robert's the wifebeater—

You wanna ride on your ex wife'a fame:

Well here it is,

That's what your name is:

Starr Michael Roberts, The Wifebeater

Comma and all

And fuck Mike Roberts Sr

For beating your mother—

(Cause you need her.)

What goes around comes around

With these words, I defeat you

Can't afford feed you;

So here go the demons

Try eating em.

I try meeting men

Looking lean and thin,

But that's besides the point—

Anoint myself in oil,

Cause what it boils down to is

I'll spoil my kid

However I see fit

Using the music I do

Cause you couldn't

Enough of that

I get reminded of the past daily,

It's a regression of Chanpion sweaters

Dirty white Nikes

And train riders with anxiety

Sitting by me

That knee shaking thing,

And coughing

“He must hate me”,

I think

Cause he never could have loved me

To put a curse on

Poor son

Growing up on McDonald's and hot pockets

—but I got nothin

My father ain't got a lawyer

So I'm undercover

Till supacree comes back

To smoke you

Keep smoking

You see me on TV

You don't know me

I don't owe nobody nothing

And feeding informants

Father for the punishments and judgements

Try punching a light skin

You like this?

It's not lyrics I write

//return to sender//

Just like this

Get out of my face

With the crazy shit!

You made me do this,

Fuck it, I'll keep pressing the red button then,

Just for the record,

I don't need medical attention

Unless it's part of the decision to let me in

To an Ivy legume college

On scholarship

So check to complex rhymes, man

Check out the complex

I'm not gonna fight over a man,

*laughs*

That's just madness and Satanic,

I'm way past hate and angst;

Please!

The “Prince of Peace”

Is reading this

Vengeful and revenge seeking

Cause I promise

I'm not confrontational,

Multi-national linguist,

Entertainer of languages,

Maker of sandwhiches,

And handsome Skrillexes.

I riddle this nigga for dinner;

For pleasure and other reasons,

The change of the seasons is over

It's cold as fuck

Like my heart is

I'm an artist

What the fuck do you want

Been made to suffer too long

*coughs*

Cover your mouth you programmable posessivle depressive sons of bitches—

Whoever did this is gonna get it

(Unless it's the government)

Crumbling under itself for what it did l

To the inhabitants of the Divided Fakes of

unbearable unaffordable divorced mothers and fathers,

Sisters and brothers unrecognizable to each other anymore

Over fucking currency—

I'm done with earth!

If all you want is money to buy stuff

Keep struggling and suffering

Of love is gone

Then so is time

And so is I am

I am I

You wanna kill me?!

Now you die.

Return to sender.

Wife eating little puert ass bitch.

Can't forgive someone who never apologized

Cause the statute of limitations isn't up

I'm not giving up,

I love my son;

I'll send the aliens to pick him up

—A Rendezvous;

A Coup d'état,

An “I love You” from afar,

Though I'm lost,

Might not come back around,

Might be one, might be dos

Might be God or just

The other one

For the love of money

Here's a double dose of

“Shut the fuck up”

With a spoonful of sugar,

From the Wrong Mary Poppins

Where it pops off,

In the long run.

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

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