Thursday, July 29, 2010

Four Minutes.

Dingbats be on some fairy tale dream shit,
It's all good mate, you've been greenlit.
It's all crocodile smiles and metaphor denials from masters of manipulation. Vocabulary based self worth justifiers of self taught paced liars.

A soul ain't a soul without one.
The decible level hit homebaked homebase, the crowd watched as the only runner came second place.
Your shit seems so forced, so unviable,
There might be a market, but you selling out,
It's undeniable.
Presenting free proof to all troops regardless of caste, colour, crew or creed,
So brace yourself in for your fifteen seconds,
Ride dick, ride fixies, ride coat tails,
Ya reckon?

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