deepundergroundpoetry.com

hell on earth open mic

Last night it seemed I awoke from a dream and, I was falling feelin small and screamin...
Damn... Where are we... and why are we in this hand basket?

Last night it seemed I awoke to a dream and, I was fallin feelin small and screamin, feelin like Im feenin for my demons they fleein, and it seems that I can see them, but then again man, I feel that they can see me

But this aint christian rap,
Naw preacher this aint that,
this is an infant suckin on a titty with
a tat and all he's gettin is similac,

Again this aint christian rap,
Sorry pastor this aint that ,
this is an infant strippin trippin
wishin that her daddy had didn't did that

along with the scenes of the bloody earth
as shes breathin
all the bling she was heaving,
all the trees we depleating , all the oil she's bleeding,

Sorry Ma you don't need them
and I gotta lotta seed
so Imma keep it to feed them
to raise more little heathens
we don't care 'bout the air now
we aint even breathing
I keep league with the deceased
in this place of decieving
so lets bring the disease in
and fill all our cups with the evils
that we need ,
Shit, we all have our reasons...
beanbandit
Written by beanbandit (David Gonzales)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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