Infomaniacs

Be a fool.
Don't read more books.
The brain is tortoise slow.
Livin' in a pigeon hole;
The tortoise shell.
So... Consult the oracle.
Fold the scroll,
so it's portable.
The wise words wasn't audible.
Word to the wise,
ya bovine is horrible.
Hold the oxen low,
razor blades stop ya oxygen flow.
Need the oxycontin, the oxytose.
Ya bum steer wasn't nautical.
I recline at the far table.
Mind don't sit stock-till, it's orbital.
Contorsional.
Life is a poem.
Tantrical. Mind, body and soul.
Cold as the papa bears porridge bowl.
Warm the soul, soft as the lamb's wool.
The simmerin' coal splashed wit alcohol.
Grand master flashin' like photos glown.
Couldn't bare the glare in my opticles.
I perform my at a top revolt.
The cops, I loathe.
I'm obnoxious? Well, you're all noxious folks.
I'm solid gold.
Wear a gas mask.
Bake ya gasseous asses into casserole.
I'm rich in my flow.
Planned obsolence. Purposely exaughstible.
profit quadruple.
Demand my supplies for more,
they ain't got enough of me to go around.
Stay poise. they annoyin. I scowl.
These neander-thals, meander roads.
I'm a pterodactyl, flyin', straight above the fools.
Take out the old, put in the new.
I read the scroll, but everything I already knew.
Get a clue. Information isn't fuel...
It's about how you do what you do.
Get a clue, get a clue,
before I kill you in the library with a rope.

1/27/2014

Make my shit last like a photo graph.
From the hood. now I'm sittin' fat.
Any social caste, whether u got gold and cash,
or hitting on the crack;
Any lifestyle can hit the morass,
never know when the chrome'll blast.
Gotta keep ya room like a arsenal cache.
Maybach peelin' down the racetrack,
blowin' away a haystack.
The wraith's wrath.
I ain't naturally apt, like half of these cats.
but I want to become a master of my craft,
and wit that comes keepin ya mouf zipped up like a bag.
Still keep my rhymes pouring like a caraf,
keep my heads up like mawfuckin a giraffe..
Never forgotten epitaph.
Stay fly. Fishin like a bass.
Morning wheaties mashed.
Let the graffiti splash,
I wanna be a bohemian.
The beatnik beatin men,
not they teeth broken in;
... but the words I'm leaving em.
The hours spinnin like a turn style.
Turn my style to flower child.
Turn scowl to smile.
I'm sick of trying to out-beguile.
Let thunder showers thin right out.
Chameleon from crocodile.
A million lizards on the prowl,
so I'm stayin hidden now.