From the Earth to the Interstellar I will love you forever this is Adam and Eve naked in the garden with Red Hot Chili Peppers blood, sugar, sex, magic no serpents or specters no burning bushes with he shepherds, but in my mind we are molded and made to be together forever who gives a fuck about these crabs in our nebula your my holy Sepulchre replica world wonder number nine, hanging gardens of Nebuchadnezzar its like we're tethered bound by straps of leather it's like these things could never be better you're in my orbit like Johannes Kepler knowing that we both stay Po like Edgar but in this Rue Morgue we rock till the cops come knocking, we fucking wherever, whenever we rap our bodies around each other, its an endles feedback loop, mobius strip with MC Escher there is a thin line between and pleasure so, grab the rope and pass the smoke I like to bite, scratch and joke we connect like cables wires, wrapped up close 2012 its like the venom got en em and I found myself wrapped up like fine lenin, all thse fine women, rush of adrenaline, touching when intimate try to picture i

Yo, Tev, better cancel all calls to the marketing department and publicist/ better yet, call the pharmacist and psychiatrist, because the madmen i am running with need narcotics anonymous/ fuck the meds, I was born like this, so honor it, I write for the love of it/ I put my heart in it/ most dont know the scripture but it down on them like dorner armaments the cops are the arsonist no argument/ i bite pristine apples gardening/ this is sistine chapel artisan/ we push this partnership/ , licken your twtised sister on the ottoman/ the sickest victors since the ottomans/ i speak for the unraveled modern man/ split screen fractal common sense/ 16 scalpels means my homegirl with cuts on her arm again toast to a scar to mend/ I hope one day she will smile and grin/ until then we talk about it over jars of gin/ blow smoke in the autumn wind/ I stay god body to the head arm and limbs/ but lust for dirty damsels and dine with fine wine harlequins/ hollow models modeling, face full of botox and collagen/ its a slippery slope hollow bottle swallowing, sniffing coke, wallowing/ trying to grip the rope, primetime alcoholic sips in every bar i am in/ my friends hit the slope slaloming/ 8 ball in every pocket high as rocket ships/ 8 ball in every pocket high as rocket ships/ While i write for the fatherless, live from the bottomless pit/ I’m a survivalist, my mind will drift/ I write for the fatherless live from the bottomless pit a survivalist, columnist my mind will drift in the tide of timelessness look at this universal wave and dive in it i battle hopelessness my friends battle homelessness and i still wonder why i exist My life is unpredictable, yet cyclical, it all depends on how my karma spins/ the centripetal is critical and pivotal when the room is spinning after a rack of tom collins and cosmopolitans i got an odd flow, god knows that we all have sinned/ excuse me, that was my guilty conscious barging in/ i aint new to this, anarchist rule # 1 is fuck the government and politics, no pandering/ I cant pardon the quaks and charlatans in parliament that dont represent the populace replace the congressmen/ I’m a post modernist, columnist, mister mind is gone hard to follow it/ voluminous raps in negative space and every line of the song, i never call it quits, / its obvious, head and straight but i have a star to grip/ dime in a bong taking the strongest rips, blood stream sedative laced we just started this mission, lets see how far we get, I have thoughts of lost friends that keep me motivated when its hard to live, i mean, when stuck between a huge rock and the biggest hardest bricks, other friends lost their lives to the bright lights, but not fame or halogens, but the ambulance and discharged cartridges, to get em back i would gladly give god a rib i promise you this/ so you wonder why i rap with uncommon consciousness,/ scroll up honest scripts/ st thomas aquinas with the starving kids/ I look at this so called life and ask myself is this all it is/ I look at this so called life and ask myself is this all that it is/ the only shamaan to channel tutankhamun and discuss opulence with brahman credit cards. dollars and cents, how much will landlords charge for rent/ so. you think I care about getting signed by an international conglomerate/ and lose all claim to ownership, no sir, quite the opposite/ I care about predestination and exploring all 7 continents/