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It was kind of an open, laid back, slam thing
And this dude bro aflame with the spirit takes stage
Proclaims in the voice of the prophet:
“I’m not so much a poet,
but a bringer of shame
You can call me Big Juicy Mellifluous ‘D’
I am here to return the favor
I’m here to Instruct you in the ways of loss.
I come home in a rut, and hear her screaming from behind the door
DIG ME OUT! DIG ME OUT! DIG ME OUT!
You see, this isn’t my life, nor a fairy tail
This is the receipts of my death
I WILL FUCK YOU WHERE YOU SLEEP
That’d be such a serious threat, don’t you think
If it weren’t such a common place thing
I mean, an affair, a tryst, or taking communion,
These are the terms, true love to fling
You might be naive
Some unpunctured waif being
With your hymen unmurdered
You soul may still sing
I am here to say, give it up
Such things are a pretense
And the verb is fucked
As in, we are all this thing
I heard him out, we all did
He spoke truth based on how loud he spat it, dang
I would move to comfort someone had they confessed such a pain
In a normal situation, of a soul in disdain
But he chose to play preacher
So I laughed, cause, c’mon ma’n
Whatchu doing here.
Are you hoping for me to lead you to the hem of a garment
Or are you here for the ‘just the tip’ game.
Wherefore all this angry rain?