I've got a stomach ache.

Bloated with the super soaked shit

claustrophobic with the door open with the leg spread sit

a pit stop that won't stop even after the splashed beat drop

still with the lit wit with a ring of fire, no Cash just freely writ

my bunghole has got more soul then these paper stacked trolls

leading polls that earn less respect then those twirling on stripper poles

the fucking no models with their bent over roles

that leave their people outside cold

the soul is past tense for it's what they sold, by the boat load

sorry just squeezed out a floater as though it's got a motor 

anyway back with the splashed back, cocked back aim 

no wonder the balls stained amidst the pouring rain 

of our pride being maimed from these shit labour pains 

oops supposed to be no names for they are all stink covered grains

that somehow still remain in office like it's nothing but a fiddlers game

poshly trained in an all boys school getting taught how to run a train

with their cock in back came of small balls drained in tight ass gains

trying to frame their legacy from their dribbly butts that's equal to a flush back fame

of discarded brainwashed babes.

Angle of advice.

Reap what you sow coughing up threads

post to post sewing jumpers with threads turned red

want it, jump up, take it and blame it on absent meds

lost side is wrong side, victory tied they all lied

the simple social minds judged uncivilised 

when fight might equals right was a parental guide 

the socialised becomes a guise of a game of fear of being left behind

can you really blame OF's for sharing their bare hides 

when use any advantage was the teachings passed down, unclarified 

gotta respect the hustle, make your money boo, was basically I wanna see you

can't trust anyone for their hidden agenda for it leaves advice heavily modified 

every suggestion should be questioned with why? What prize do they spy

why are they now looking wide eyed, thinking with the cock eye with their mind blind 

but we're left with the pervert masses teaching classes 

for the young have no mental defence for temptations expense 

it takes time to decide, to define self, and who you want to reside beside

there's no guide for your life, it's up to you to clarify

what's true, and what it means in regard to you.

 

Fear the want.

Right or wrong, left no bonds for the old

the lighter load just exposed the cold

running away down closing roads

to a house laid flat, no room to roam 

amidst walls that talk in moans, disgruntled groans

for inside is no house nor home

but a bleeding heart unabsolved 

within a scarlet broken mould 

of whispers sold for mere coppers not gold

the cheap talk from the lips loaned with no will to aid the soul

as lone stories were as if to silence told, with no sweetened tones to hold 

leaves a frail existence, that fears to be consoled.