Running from Reaper

Yea I think I smoke too much I stumble and fumble around and spit up my gut like lunch fidget fucked but crutched rinse washed and crunched for what seems like as long as I've been from osh kosh b gosh to modern day slop not sure that I've lost anything at all from cradle to grave I still got the bat of my spine the ball of my skull a reason to pray that I never stop grumbling around with a hole in my soul got a hold of the whole nodda low note blown by blotter stolen remote trigger barrel point right rot at cha melee attack from this righteous rottweiler no real weapons but heavy paws and god handlers swingin piniatas in front of sightless jehovas in the inner depths of the projects during winter it was home was blown by snow to cut zones by lines of blood proper fruit of my loins dictate not a thing since family not familia in the deuce eye patched sting of these po cop caught called redeemer heres comes a freight fraught with my insecurities fought off in a single shot hennesey heisted heresy hips and cheeks gaut mother mary massacred barely under a cloud of mustard gas now a fetishy gas mask she dons a million buildings domino to the walls gone the horizon sun sung songs lost slung ruthless only when my gaurdian angel aint present I wake up in a pool of black gesso paint and apex the windows blown inward away from tresses i aint 17 no more so i dont wear dresses i aint 21 no more so i dont clean up drunk girls messes i aint 25 on the dot no more so i dont linger on lessons I cop the betterment like every second I'm the better men's mettle lyrics melt into metal to become the grooves in the vinyl hot wax inside the presses I got a lot of sound but im still running from reaper i make puddles from the ground cant put a face to the deceiver cant put a trace on the receiver cant get a voice cant get an opinion from any of my selves or any minion so figure my phone must be off the hook I'm shook baby tell me whats my choice I got the reaper outside the cleaver within balance is a tricky bitch but i fuck tight ropes with a shadowed brow and a shiny grin this aint no stint this is life long muthafucker and I dont mean an average 75 years I mean from never and on forever tears from a meteor tore the atmosphere a new few thousand potential flight believers now we scrying the next evolution in moon and mars dust how soon til the aliens pour out my wounds to pry my third eye into opening up tears from a samurai never touch the dirt so I'm learning how to be a cloud jumper from those warriors with nothing else but their own to quench their thirst and I'm learning yea I'm learning about code and honor not a word I am the thread and I am the pin the strike of the bullet and spear the precipitation inside the sauna keeping speech to a min shipwreck found in the tops of mountains and they said I was absurd I am a seamless face bounty saturated til blurred killer with two sharp fingers splinters in a bucket of paint carve out the negative space black gesso drench the vase dress disintegrate to lace to vapors to I don't gotta guess her layers so deco or fresco what ever have you in the back seat soliloquy spun from the land mine of my heart heaven only once the windows opaque with your skin you're no vehicle but I don't just can't not gonna give a damn...cuz I got the reaper outside the cleaver within balance is a tricky bitch but i fuck tight ropes with a shadowed brow and a shiny grin...now im out like the night and down like the dirt. ya dig? stay perked or get jerked in the skirt......peace.