Black Cat Magic (Rebel)

As the blade of my sword to the paleness of your rotten skin it drips         
A hawk to your presence and then in your face seem to allow the universal to spit    
I can respect a woman who can take a stand in life and love, not found begging daily on her knees  
For emotions there will never be returned no matter what the wants, or the degree  
Is it not a sin to covet another when one has a husband at home  
To bring comfort to an ailing heart, in your mind of make believe, which is too far gone  
I suppose different strokes for needy folks  
You only crave what you cannot have or beat my dear  
You have no power just a has been cunt who words that lack essence or fear  
               
I do hope you brought your shied          
Fate has sent you to me to defend her wandering sheep’s will          
Since you stand accused in the presence of a Queen          
Upgrade your purpose in life if you know what I mean          
The real true meaning or your worth, means nothing to me          
One fact about envious, it does not know how to sleep          
         
Bring me the mirrored image who declared war behind a profile name          
And for what, we have common goals here, no limelight, we declare our own poetic fame    
This is not chess, in my culture it is disrespectable to profess ill will in anger, this is no game          
And for a person one who has plenty to say and nothing to gain          
Respectable to the end, until pettiness upstaged common sense, nothing is sacred and only hell will rain          
         
What, you think you can just issue the laws of being a conniving bitch    
Bringing discord, then attempting to play the saint and the witch    
Justifiable to have eyes believing you the innocent shit  
No hocus pocus, as I suspected, a poser, without the drift    
Slinking words without recourse  
Sadden now behind the remorse     
Not to worry, I will ride the pale horse       
For a person who says she is crafted in the darken spiritual art    
Where is your heart    
You cannot speak anything into being   
That takes practice, a fasting temple, and atrial plane mental power  
You have neither even in the darkest hour  
     
I suppose tearing me to pieces was a wash out        
My moon, my Sun, My sky, a savor of my universal clout          
A rose by any other name it's just that, a flower, the soft scent, promotes its name          
For you, no respect to a racist's soul trying to defame          
       
You are just a sick joke, without the smoke


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