The Hood Chants of Maldoror (AAVE Street Vibes)
Bar 1: The Dope Calm Flow
Drop 1
Drop 2
Yo, reader, maybe you want me to spit some hate right off the jump with this shit! What’s tellin’ you you ain’t gonna sniff it up, drowned in mad pleasures, as long as you feel like, with them proud — ass nostrils, wide and skinny, flippin’ on your belly like a damn shark in that fly — ass black air, like you get how big this move is and how your legit hunger ain’t no joke neither, suckin’ in them red vibes all slow and king — like? I’m tellin’ you, fam, they gonna light up them two messed — up holes in your ugly — ass snout, you monster, if you just lock in first and breathe that cursed Eternal conscience three thou’ times straight! Them nostrils, stretched crazy wide with some deep — ass joy and still — ass bliss, ain’t gonna ask space for nothin’ better, now smellin’ like incense and cologne and shit; ‘cause they gonna be stuffed with pure happiness, like them angels chillin’ in the dope shine and peace of them sweet heavens, yo.
Drop 3
Yo, I’m ‘bout to lay down in a few lines how Maldoror was good back in his early days, livin’ all happy and shit — done deal. Then he clocked he was born fucked — up: some wild — ass fate! He kept that shit on lock as long as he could, for mad years; but in the end, ‘cause that holdin’ — in vibe wasn’t his natural flow, the blood kept rushin’ to his dome every damn day, ‘til he couldn’t take that life no more and dove headfirst into the evil game — sweet — ass air, yo! Who’d’a thought that shit? When he kissed a little kid with them rosy cheeks, he was itchin’ to slice ‘em off with a razor, and he’d’a done it mad times, if Justice, with its long — ass crew of punishments, ain’t stepped in every time to block him. He wasn’t no liar — he owned that truth and spit he was cruel. Y’all humans hear that? He got the balls to say it again with this shaky — ass pen! So there’s some power bigger than willpower — damn curse! A rock gonna duck gravity’s rules? Nah, fam, impossible. Same deal if evil tryna roll with good — impossible. That’s what I was sayin’ before, yo.
Drop 4
Yo, some folks write to chase that human clappin’, usin’ them fancy — ass heart vibes that they dream up or might even have. Me, I flip my genius to paint the dope — ass joys of cruelty! Ain’t no quick — fade, fake — ass thrills — nah, these kicks started with man and gonna roll out with him. Can’t a genius vibe link up with cruelty in them secret — ass Providence plans? Or ‘cause you cruel, you can’t have no genius? Y’all gonna see the proof in my bars — up to you to tune in, if you down… My bad, fam, felt like my hair was standin’ up on my dome for a sec; but it’s cool, I smoothed that shit back down with my hand, no sweat. The one spittin’ these rhymes ain’t sayin’ his joints some brand — new shit; nah, he flexin’ hard ‘cause the wild — ass, nasty thoughts of his main dude live in every damn head out there, yo.
Drop 5
Yo, I been peepin’ my whole damn life — ain’t missin’ one — these narrow — ass shoulder dudes pullin’ mad dumb moves, fuckin’ up they folks and twistin’ souls every damn way they can. They call what’s pushin’ ‘em glory and shit. Seein’ all that mess, I wanted to crack up like the rest, but that weird — ass copycat vibe? Nah, couldn’t do it. Grabbed a blade with a sharp — ass edge and sliced my flesh right where my lips hook up. For a hot sec, I thought I nailed it. Checked my grill in the mirror, all fucked — up by my own hand! That shit was off, yo! Blood pourin’ heavy from both cuts blocked me from seein’ if that was really they laugh or not. But after a quick — ass compare, I clocked my laugh ain’t match them humans — I wasn’t even laughin’, fam. Seen these cats with nasty — ass heads and wild eyes sunk deep in dark holes, outdoin’ rocks for hardness, steel for stiffness, sharks for cruel, young punks for cocky, crooks for crazy rage, fakes for backstabbin’, the wildest actors, priests for grit, and the most low — key, ice — cold dudes from earth to sky — burnin’ out them moralists tryna crack they hearts and pullin’ down that high — up, no — mercy wrath. Caught ‘em all at once, sometimes throwin’ the hardest fist at the sky, like some twisted — ass kid hatin’ on his mama, prob’ly hyped by some hell spirit, eyes loaded with burnin’ regret and hate, stayin’ ice — quiet, too shook to spit them big, ungrateful thoughts they chest was holdin’, so full of wrong and horror they made the mercy God sad as fuck; other times, every damn hour from kid days to old — ass age, slingin’ wild curses — no damn sense in ‘em — at every breathin’ thing, at they own selves, at Providence, trickin’ out chicks and kids, fuckin’ up the body parts meant for keepin’ it real. Then the seas swell up, swallowin’ boards in they deep — ass pits; storms and quakes flip houses; plague and all kinda sickness wipe out prayin’ crews. But these dudes? They don’t even clock it. Seen ‘em blushin’, goin’ pale from shame ‘bout they moves on this earth — rare as hell. Tempests, kin to hurricanes; blue — ass sky, I ain’t buyin’ your pretty; fake — ass sea, mirrorin’ my heart; earth with your mystery gut; sphere dwellers; whole damn universe; God, who built you dope as fuck — you the one I’m callin’: show me a dude who’s good!... But juice my natural strength ten times over with your grace, ‘cause seein’ that monster might knock me dead from shock — lesser shit’s killed before, yo.
Drop 6
Yo, you gotta let them nails grow out fifteen days straight. Man, how sweet — ass it is to snatch a kid outta his bed — lil’ homie with no fuzz on his lip yet — and with eyes wide as fuck, fake — ass runnin’ my hand smooth over his head, pushin’ back that pretty hair! Then, bam, when he ain’t seein’ it comin’, sink them long — ass nails deep in his soft — ass chest, just so he don’t croak — ‘cause if he dies, fam, I ain’t gonna peep his misery later. Next, you sip that blood, lickin’ them cuts; and while that shit’s poppin’ — oughta last long as eternity, yo — the kid’s bawlin’. Ain’t nothin’ hit like his blood, pulled how I just laid it down, still hot — ‘less it’s them tears, salty — ass and bitter. Homie, you never tasted your own blood when you sliced your finger by mistake? That shit’s fire, right — ‘cause it don’t even got no taste. Plus, don’t you remember that one time, lost in your dark — ass thoughts, pressin’ your scooped — out hand on your fucked — up face, wet from what’s droppin’ outta your eyes; then that hand rollin’ straight to your mouth, suckin’ down them tears hard, shakin’ like a scared — ass kid side — eyin’ the dude born to fuck him over? Them tears hit good, don’t they — got that vinegar kick. Like tears from the one who loves you most; but a kid’s tears taste better on the tongue, yo. He ain’t snitchin’, don’t even know evil yet — the one who loves most? She gonna flip on you sooner or later… I’m guessin’ that shit from how it lines up, even if I don’t get what friendship or love even is (prolly never gonna vibe with ‘em — least not from humans). So, since your own blood and tears don’t make you gag, feast — feast with no doubt — on this youngin’s tears and blood. Blindfold his ass while you rip into his twitchin’ flesh; and after hours of hearin’ them dope — ass screams, like the wild — ass groans dyin’ fools let out in a fight, then, steppin’ back like a damn landslide, you bounce from the next room, actin’ like you here to save him. Untie his hands, all swole with veins and nerves poppin’, give sight back to them crazy — ass eyes, and start lickin’ his tears and blood again. That’s when the guilt feels real as fuck! That divine spark in us, showin’ up rare as hell, pops off — too damn late! Heart’s burstin’ to patch up the innocent you fucked over: “Lil’ homie, who just took some cruel — ass pain, who the hell pulled this crime on you — I can’t even name that shit! You poor bastard! You gotta be hurtin’ bad! If your moms knew this, she wouldn’t be closer to dyin’ — what them guilty cats hate — than I am right now. Man, what’s good and evil anyway? One thing we spit with rage to show we weak — ass, tryna hit the infinite with the wildest moves? Or two different vibes? Yeah… let it be one thing… ‘cause if not, what’s gonna happen to me when judgment drops! Lil’ homie, forgive me; it’s the dude standin’ ‘fore your noble, sacred face who smashed your bones and tore the flesh hangin’ off your body. Was it my sick — ass head trippin’, or some deep — down urge I can’t reason out — like an eagle rippin’ its catch — that pushed me to this crime? Still, I was hurtin’ just as much as my prey! Lil’ homie, forgive me. Once we out this quick — ass life, I want us twisted up forever, one damn being, my mouth locked to yours. Even then, my payback ain’t full. You gonna tear me up, never stoppin’, with teeth and nails at once. I’ll deck my body with sweet — smellin’ wreaths for this sorry — ass sacrifice; and we both gonna hurt — me gettin’ ripped, you rippin’ me… my mouth locked to yours. Yo, lil’ homie with that blond hair and soft eyes, you gonna do what I’m tellin’ you now? Even if you don’t want it, I need you to, and it’ll chill my conscience.” After droppin’ all that, you’ll have fucked up a human and still get love from that same cat — that’s the dopest happiness you can dream up. Later, you can toss him in a hospital — ‘cause the busted — up kid ain’t gonna hustle for bread. They gonna call you good, and them laurel crowns and gold medals gonna hide your bare — ass feet, scattered over that big — ass tomb with its old face. Yo, you, whose name I ain’t writin’ on this page that blesses the holiness of crime, I know your forgiveness was big as the universe. But me? I’m still kickin’, yo!
Drop 7
Yo, I cut a deal with prostitution to fuck up families, straight — up chaos shit. I’m clockin’ that night before this wild — ass hookup. Saw a tomb right in front of me. Heard a glowworm, big — ass like a crib, talkin’ at me: “I’ma light your way, fam. Peep the words. This top — dog order ain’t from me.” Then this huge blood — red glow hit, makin’ my jaw clack and arms drop dead — ass limp, stretchin’ out to the edge of the sky. I leaned on some busted — up wall ‘cause I was ‘bout to crash, and I read: “Here’s a youngin’ who kicked it from TB — y’all know why. Don’t pray for him.” Most cats prolly wouldn’t have my balls for that. Meanwhile, this fine — ass naked chick rolled up and laid at my feet. I hit her with a sad — ass look: “You can stand, yo.” Gave her the hand a bro — killer slits his sis with. Glowworm piped up at me: “Yo, grab a rock and smash her.” “For what?” I shot back. He hit me: “Watch yourself — weakest ‘round here, ‘cause I’m the strongest. This one’s Prostitution, bruv.” Tears in my eyes, rage pumpin’ my chest, I felt some new — ass strength kick in. Snatched a fat — ass rock; after mad grind, barely lifted it to my chest, then slung it up on my shoulder with both arms. Climbed a mountain to the top — smashed that glowworm from there. Its head sank a man’s deep in the dirt; rock bounced up high as six damn churches. Landed in a lake, waters dropped for a sec, spinnin’ hard, carvin’ a big — ass upside — down cone. Shit calmed back down on the top; that blood — red light quit shinin’. “Man, what the fuck! What the fuck!” the fine naked chick yelled. I told her: “I’m pickin’ you over him — I feel for the fucked — up ones. Ain’t your fault eternal justice cooked you up like this.” She hit me back: “One day, folks gonna give me my due — I ain’t sayin’ more. Let me bounce, hide my endless — ass hurt deep in the sea. Only you and them nasty — ass freaks crawlin’ in them black pits don’t hate on me. You good, fam. Peace, you who loved me!” I hollered at her: “Peace! One more time — peace! I’ma always love you!... Startin’ today, I’m ditchin’ virtue, yo.” That’s why, y’all people, when you hear that winter wind cryin’ over the sea and by its edge, or above them big — ass cities that been mournin’ me forever, or through them cold — ass polar spots, say: “That ain’t God’s spirit rollin’ through — just prostitution’s sharp — ass sigh mixin’ with the Montevidean’s deep groans.” Lil’ homies, it’s me tellin’ you this. Then, full of mercy, hit your knees; and let them cats, more than lice out there, spit them long — ass prayers, yo.
Drop 8
Yo, under that moonlight glow, by the sea, in them lonely — ass backwoods spots, you see every damn thing turnin’ yellow, blurry, and wild — ass, deep in some bitter — ass thoughts. Tree shadows — quick one sec, slow the next — runnin’, comin’, bouncin’ back in all kinda shapes, flattenin’ out, huggin’ the dirt tight. Back when my young — ass wings had me flyin’, that shit had me dreamin’, felt weird as fuck; now I’m used to it, fam. Wind’s moanin’ through the leaves with them sad — ass notes, and the owl’s droppin’ its heavy — ass cry, makin’ hair stand up for anybody catchin’ it. Then them dogs, flipped — out crazy, snap they chains, bust loose from far — off farms; they tearin’ through the fields, this way and that, wildin’ out. All a sudden, they freeze, scopin’ every damn side with that fierce — ass worry, eyes blazin’; and like them elephants, ‘fore they check out, throwin’ one last look at the sky in the desert, liftin’ they trunk all desperate, ears floppin’ dead, these dogs let they ears flop dead, jerk they heads up, puff out they scary — ass necks, and start barkin’ — one after another — like a kid yellin’ for food, or a cat gut — stabbed up on a roof, or a chick ‘bout to pop a baby, or some plague — hit fool dyin’ in the hospital, or a young — ass girl singin’ some dope — ass tune — at them stars up north, east, south, west; at the moon; at them mountains, lookin’ like big — ass rocks chillin’ far off in the dark; at that cold — ass air they suckin’ down hard, turnin’ they nose insides red and hot; at the night’s dead — ass quiet; at them owls, swoopin’ low and grazin’ they snouts, snatchin’ a rat or frog in they beak — live grub, sweet for they lil’ ones; at them hares, ghostin’ in a flash; at the thief, bolting on his horse after pullin’ a job; at them snakes, rattlin’ the brush, makin’ they skin shake and teeth grind; at they own damn barks, scarin’ the shit outta themselves; at them toads, they smash with a quick — ass chomp (why they ditch the swamp, yo?); at them trees, with leaves swayin’ soft, holdin’ mysteries they can’t figure, tryna peep with them sharp — ass, smart eyes; at them spiders, hangin’ ‘tween they long — ass legs, climbin’ trees to bounce; at them crows, who ain’t scored no eats all day, floppin’ back to the nest with tired — ass wings; at them shore rocks; at them flickerin’ lights up on ghost — ship masts; at that low — ass wave rumble; at them big — ass fish, swimmin’, flashin’ they black backs ‘fore divin’ deep; and at the dude keepin’ ‘em caged. After that, they back at it, tearin’ through the fields, leapin’ with bloody — ass paws over ditches, paths, grass, rocks, and steep — ass stones. You’d think they rabid, huntin’ some big — ass pond to kill that thirst. Them long — ass howls got nature shook. Tough luck for that late — ass traveler! Them graveyard homies gonna jump him, rip him up, chow down with they bloody — drippin’ mouths — ‘cause they teeth ain’t fucked — up, yo. Wild beasts, too chickenshit to join the flesh feast, peel out far as you can see, shakin’. Few hours later, them dogs — burnt out from runnin’ everywhere, half — dead, tongues hangin’ out — turn on each other, no clue what they doin’, tearin’ into a thousand pieces, fast as fuck. Ain’t ‘bout cruelty, though. One day, with them glassy — ass eyes, my moms hit me: “When you in bed and hear them dogs barkin’ out there, duck under your blanket, don’t clown what they up to — they got that mad — ass thirst for the infinite, like you, like me, like all us pale — faced, long — ass humans. Even let you post up by the window to check that dope — ass show.” Since then, I been holdin’ my dead chick’s wish down. Me, like them dogs, I’m cravin’ that infinite shit… Can’t — can’t fill that crave, yo! They say I’m man and woman’s kid — blows my damn mind… thought I was more than that! But who gives a fuck where I’m from? If I had my way, I’d be the shark chick’s son, hunger ridin’ with storms, and the tiger, known for bein’ a beast — I wouldn’t be this damn wicked. Y’all starin’ at me, step back — my breath’s spittin’ poison — ass vibes. Ain’t nobody seen them green — ass wrinkles on my forehead, or them bones stickin’ outta my skinny — ass face, like ribs on some big — ass fish, or rocks linin’ the shore, or them steep — ass Alps I used to roam when my hair was a different shade. When I creep ‘round folks’ spots on stormy nights, eyes burnin’, hair whippin’ in the wind, lone like a rock in the road, I cover my messed — up face with a piece of velvet, black — ass like chimney soot — no eyes need to clock the ugly — ass shit the Top Dog, with a mean — ass grin, slapped on me. Every mornin’, when the sun pops up for everybody else, throwin’ joy and warm — ass feels all over nature, while my face don’t even twitch, starin’ hard into that dark — ass void, crouched deep in my fave cave, high off despair like it’s liquor, I claw my shredded — ass chest with my strong hands. Still, I know I ain’t rabid! Still, I know I ain’t the only one hurtin’! Still, I know I’m breathin’, yo! Like some doomed — ass dude testin’ his strength, thinkin’ ‘bout his fate, ‘bout to climb that scaffold, I stand on my straw bed, eyes shut, slow — rollin’ my neck right to left, left to right, for hours — don’t drop dead stiff. Every now and then, when my neck can’t roll one way no more and flips the other, I peek quick at the horizon through them rare — ass gaps in the thick brush blockin’ the entrance — don’t see shit! Nothin’ — ‘cept fields spinnin’ with trees and long — ass bird lines cuttin’ the sky. That fucks with my blood and my head, yo… Who’s smackin’ my dome with an iron — ass bar, like a hammer hittin’ the anvil?
Drop 9
Yo, I’m ‘bout to spit this serious — ass, cold — ass verse loud as fuck, no feelin’s in it. Y’all, clock what it’s holdin’, and watch out for that raw — ass sting it’s gonna drop, like a scar, all up in your fucked — up heads. Don’t think I’m ‘bout to check out, ‘cause I ain’t no skeleton yet, and old — ass age ain’t glued to my dome. So fuck any swan — ass talk ‘bout my life flyin’ off — just peep a monster standin’ here, and I’m glad y’all can’t see my mug; still, it ain’t as fucked as my soul, bruv. But I ain’t no crook… Enough ‘bout that shit. Ain’t been long since I hit the sea again, walked them ship decks, and my memories sharp — ass like I bounced yesterday. Still, if you can, keep it cool like me with this read I’m already wishin’ I ain’t offered, and don’t blush thinkin’ ‘bout what the human heart’s packin’. Yo, octopus with them silk — ass eyes! You, whose soul’s locked tight with mine; you, the flyest cat on this damn earth, runnin’ a harem of four hundred suckers; you, where that sweet — ass connect vibe and holy graces sit all king — like, tied up tight like it’s home — why ain’t you here with me, your mercury gut pressed up on my aluminum chest, both us posted on some shore rock, checkin’ this dope — ass show I’m wild for, yo!
Old ocean, with them crystal waves, you lookin’ like — size — wise — them blue — ass marks on the beat — up backs of ship boys; you a big — ass blue slapped on earth’s body — I dig that vibe. First look at you, a long — ass sad breath, like your chill breeze whisperin’, rolls over my shook — ass soul, leavin’ deep — ass tracks, and you hit your lovers’ minds — half the time they don’t even clock it — with them rough — ass starts of man, when he first meets pain that sticks forever. I’m salutin’ you, old ocean!
Old ocean, your smooth — ass round shape, makin’ geometry’s stern face grin, reminds me too damn much of human eyes — tiny like a hog’s, round like night birds with that perfect — ass edge. But man’s been callin’ himself fly through every age. Me, I say he only believes that shit ‘cause of ego; he ain’t real — deal fly and he knows it — why else he eyein’ his homie with so much hate? I’m salutin’ you, old ocean!
Old ocean, you the symbol of same — ass shit: always true to you. You don’t flip no big way, and if your waves wildin’ out somewhere, way off in another spot they chill — ass calm. You ain’t like man, stoppin’ on the block to watch two bulldogs grip necks but ghostin’ when a funeral rolls by; cool this mornin’, pissed tonight; laughin’ today, cryin’ tomorrow. I’m salutin’ you, old ocean!
Old ocean, ain’t no stretch you hidin’ some future — ass goodies for man in your gut. You already hooked him up with the whale. You don’t let them greedy — ass science eyes figure your thousand deep — ass secrets easy — you keep it low — key. Man braggin’ all damn day over petty shit. I’m salutin’ you, old ocean!
Old ocean, them different fish you feed ain’t swore no brother — ass pact. Every crew rolls solo. They vibes and shapes, switchin’ up each one, clear up what first looks like some off — ass glitch. Same deal with man, but he ain’t got them excuses. Thirty mil folks crammed on some land patch, they feel like they gotta ignore they neighbors rooted next door. Big to small, every dude livin’ like a savage in his den, barely steppin’ out to check his homie, holed up the same in another spot. That big — ass universal human fam? A pipe dream for the lamest — ass logic. Plus, seein’ your fertile — ass waves, you get that ungrateful vibe — ‘cause it makes you think of them tons of folks, shady — ass to the Creator, ditchin’ the kids from they broke — ass hookups. I’m salutin’ you, old ocean!
Old ocean, your big — ass size only stacks up to the power — ass juice it took to birth all your weight. Ain’t no quick peep gonna catch you whole. To check you out, eyes gotta spin they scope slow ‘round all four horizon spots, like a math cat crackin’ algebra, flippin’ through every damn case ‘fore solvin’ it. Man chows down good eats and pulls other moves — worth better shit — to look thick. Let that cute — ass frog puff up all she wants. Chill — she ain’t matchin’ your bulk; I’m bettin’ that, at least. I’m salutin’ you, old ocean!
Old ocean, your waters bitter — ass. Same damn taste as the shade critics spit on arts, science, everythin’. If some cat’s got genius, they call him dumb — ass; if another’s built fly, he’s a nasty — ass hunchback. Sure, man’s gotta feel his flaws hard — three — quarters his own damn fault — to hate on ‘em like that! I’m salutin’ you, old ocean!
Old ocean, even with they slick — ass tricks, humans ain’t clocked your dizzy — ass depths yet, not even with science gear; you got spots them longest, heaviest probes can’t touch. Fish roll through… not dudes. I been wonderin’ mad times what’s easier to figure: your deep — ass drop or the human heart’s pit! Plenty days, hand on my head, standin’ on ships while the moon rocked wild ‘tween the masts, I caught myself — ignorin’ all but that chase — grindin’ to crack this tough — ass riddle! Yeah, what’s deeper, harder to peep: ocean or heart? If thirty years of livin’ tips the scale one way, I’d say, even with your depth, ocean ain’t matchin’ the human heart’s dark — ass hole on that count. I kicked it with cats who was good. They checked out at sixty, and everybody hollered: “They did right on this earth — droppin’ charity; that’s it, ain’t slick, anybody can pull that.” Who’s gonna get why two lovers, all over each other yesterday, split over one fucked — up word — one east, one west — with hate, payback, love, and guilt stabbin’ ‘em, never linkin’ again, each wrapped in they lone — ass pride? That’s a daily — ass miracle, still wild as fuck. Who’s gonna get why we dig not just everybody’s big — ass woes but even the small — ass hurts of our tightest homies, while feelin’ bad too? One straight — up fact to cap it: man says yeah with his mouth and nah in his head. That’s why humanity’s hogs trust each other so damn much and ain’t selfish. Mind — game shit still got a long — ass way to go. I’m salutin’ you, old ocean!
Old ocean, you so damn strong, cats learned that the hard — ass way. They throw all they brain — ass tricks at you — still can’t run you. They met they boss. I’m sayin’ they found somethin’ tougher than them. That somethin’ got a name — ocean! The fear you drop on ‘em got ‘em respectin’ you. Still, you make they heaviest rigs dance all smooth, fly, and easy. You got ‘em flippin’ sky — high and divin’ deep — ass in your turf — circus cats be jealous. They lucky when you don’t wrap ‘em up for good in your wild — ass waves, off to peep — no train tracks — how fish holdin’ up in your wet guts, and how they holdin’ up too. Man’s like: “I’m sharper than the ocean.” Maybe; kinda true; but ocean’s scarier to him than he is to it — ain’t gotta prove that shit. This old — ass watcher, kickin’ since earth’s first days, grins pity — style when he sees nations’ ship fights. Here come a hundred leviathans, built by human hands. Big — ass boss orders, wounded yells, cannon blasts — noise just to kill a few ticks. Drama’s done, looks like, and ocean swallowed it all. That mouth’s a beast. Gotta be wide — ass down low, headin’ to the unknown! To top this dumb — ass play — ain’t even worth a look — you see, up in the air, some stork, slowed by bein’ beat, yellin’ mid — flight: “Hold up!… That’s fucked! Black dots was down there; I blinked — they gone.” I’m salutin’ you, old ocean!
Old ocean, you big — ass loner, rollin’ through the chill — ass quiet of your calm — ass turf, you flex right on your dope — ass shine and the real props I’m quick to drop. Rocked smooth by them soft — ass flows of your king — ass slow, the flyest gift from the top power that hooked you up, you stretch out — deep in some dark — ass mystery — over your whole damn dope surface, them unreal waves, knowin’ your forever — ass strength chill as fuck. They roll side by side, split by quick — ass gaps. One dips, another rises to meet it, with that sad — ass foam meltin’ sound, tellin’ us it’s all foam, yo. (Same way humans, them livin’ waves, drop one by one, borin’ — ass style, no frothy noise left.) Fly — by birds chill on ‘em, trustin’, ridin’ them proud — ass, smooth moves ‘til they wing bones get back they old juice to keep that sky trip goin’. I wish man’s king — ass vibe was just your shine’s echo. I’m askin’ big, and this real — ass wish props you up. Your moral — ass size, mirrorin’ the infinite, is huge like a thinker’s deep — ass thoughts, a chick’s love, a bird’s holy flyness, a poet’s dreams. You finer than night, yo. Hit me back, ocean — you wanna be my fam? Shake it hard… harder… even more, if you want me to stack you up with God’s payback; stretch them pale — ass claws, cuttin’ through your own chest — that’s it. Drop them scary — ass waves, nasty — ass ocean, only I get you, and I’m down here, bowed at your knees. Man’s king — ass shit’s borrowed — he ain’t swayin’ me; you do. Yo, when you roll up, crest high and wild, wrapped in them twistin’ coils like some fierce — ass spell — caster, stackin’ waves on waves, knowin’ what you are, while you let out — from deep in your gut, like you crushed by some heavy — ass guilt I can’t clock — that low — ass growl men scared of, even peepin’ you safe, shakin’ on the shore, I see that fly — ass right to call myself your match ain’t mine. That’s why, facin’ your big — ass game, I’d give you all my love (and nobody knows how much love my chase for flyness holds), if you didn’t make me hurt thinkin’ ‘bout my people, the sharpest — ass joke next to you, the wildest — ass clash creation ever peeped — can’t love you, I hate you, yo. Why I keep comin’ back, thousandth time, to your cool — ass arms that open up, coolin’ my hot — ass head, killin’ that fever when they touch? I don’t know your hid — ass fate; everythin’ ‘bout you got me hooked. Tell me then, you the spot for the dark prince? Tell me… tell me, ocean (just me, so them illusion — chasin’ cats don’t get sad), if Satan’s breath kicks up them storms liftin’ your salty waves to the clouds. You gotta spill, ‘cause I’d vibe knowin’ hell’s that close to man. I want this to be my last drop in this call — out. So, one more time, I’m salutin’ you and bouncin’! Old ocean, with them crystal waves… My eyes wet — ass with big tears, and I ain’t got the juice to keep goin’; ‘cause I feel it’s time to roll back to them rough — lookin’ humans — but hold up! Let’s push hard and do our damn fate on this earth, feelin’ that duty shit. I’m salutin’ you, old ocean!
Drop 10
Yo, y’all ain’t catchin’ me on my last tick (scribblin’ this on my death — ass bed) with priests all up in my grill. I wanna check out ridin’ them wild — ass storm waves or posted up on a mountain… eyes up — nah, I know my wipeout gonna be full — on. Ain’t no mercy comin’ my way neither. Who’s crackin’ the door to my dead — ass room? I said no — damn — body come in. Whoever you are, bounce; but if you think you peepin’ some hurt or scared — ass vibes on my hyena mug (I’m throwin’ that line, even tho’ a hyena’s fly — ass and easier on the eyes than me), get it straight — step up, fam. It’s a winter night, elements smashin’ every — damn — where, cats shakin’, and some youngin’ plottin’ a hit on his homie — if he’s like I was back in my wild days. Let that wind, with its whiny — ass howls that been fuckin’ with folks since wind and people been a thing, right ‘fore my last gasp, scoop me up on its bony — ass wings, haulin’ me ‘cross the world, hyped for my end. I’ma still vibe low — key on all them fucked — up human moves (a bro loves peepin’ his crew’s dirt on the sly). Eagle, raven, that forever — ass pelican, wild duck, roamin’ crane — woke, shakin’ from the cold — gonna see me roll by in that lightning flash, a creepy — ass, grinnin’ ghost. They ain’t gonna get what’s up. Down on dirt, the viper, toad’s fat — ass eye, tiger, elephant; in the sea, whale, shark, hammerfish, freaky — ass ray, polar seal’s teeth — they gonna wonder what this wild — ass break in nature’s rules is. Man, shakin’, gonna smash his face in the ground, moanin’ hard. “Yeah, I top y’all with my born — ass cruel streak — couldn’t scrub that shit off me. That why you bowin’ down like this? Or ‘cause you see me blazin’ through space, some new — ass freak comet, drippin’ blood? (Blood rain hittin’ me from my big — ass frame, like a dark cloud a storm’s pushin’ ahead.) Don’t trip, lil’ homies — I ain’t cursin’ y’all. The dirt you threw my way too damn big, too big the dirt I threw back, to mean it. Y’all rolled your road, I rolled mine — both the same, both fucked — up. Had to cross paths with this vibe match; the crash that hit fucked us both up, yo.” Then cats gonna lift they heads slow, guts comin’ back, stretchin’ necks like snails to peep who’s spittin’ this. All a sudden, they burnin’ — ass, twisted — ass faces, flashin’ the wildest shit, gonna twist so hard wolves gonna duck out. They jump up like one big — ass spring. What damn curses! What voice — rippin’ yells! They clocked me, bruv. Now earth’s beasts link up with the cats, throwin’ they weird — ass noise. Ain’t no hate ‘tween ‘em no more; both hates aimin’ at the real enemy — me. They closin’ in, all noddin’ yeah together. Winds holdin’ me, lift me higher — I’m dodgin’ some shady — ass play. Yeah, let’s fade from they sight bit by bit, peepin’ one more time what them passions cook up, straight — up satisfied… Big ups, yo, horseshoe bat, for wakin’ me with them wing flaps, you with that nose ridin’ a funky — ass crest — I see now, damn shame, it was just some quick — ass sick spell, and I’m feelin’ myself crawl back to life, pissed — ass. Some say you swooped in to suck what lil’ blood I got left — why that guess ain’t the real — ass deal, yo!
Drop 11
Yo, fam’s posted ‘round a lamp on the table:
— “Son, grab them scissors off that chair.”
— “They ain’t there, Ma.”
— “Then bounce to the other room and snag ‘em. You remember back when, my chill — ass king, we was prayin’ for a kid — a redo of us, somethin’ to hold us up when we old as fuck?”
— “I clock that shit, and God came through. Ain’t got no gripes ‘bout our spot on this earth. Every day we givin’ props to the Big Man for hookin’ us up. Our Édouard got all his mama’s fly — ass vibes.”
— “And his pops’ tough — ass game.”
— “Here’s them scissors, Ma — finally tracked ‘em down.”
He dips back to his grind… But some cat rolls up to the front door, peepin’ the scene for a sec:
— “What the fuck this picture mean! Mad folks out there ain’t this good. What kinda head — game they runnin’ to dig livin’? Bounce, Maldoror, from this calm — ass crib — you don’t fit here, yo.”
He peels out!
— “I don’t get it, but some wild — ass shit’s clashin’ in my chest. My soul’s all fucked — up, and I don’t even know why — air’s thick as hell.”
— “Wife, I’m feelin’ that same vibe — scared some bad — ass shit’s comin’. We gotta trust the Man upstairs — that’s the real — deal hope.”
— “Ma, I can’t hardly breathe — my head’s killin’ me.”
— “You too, lil’ man! I’ma wet your head and sides with some vinegar.”
— “Nah, good Ma…”
Check it — he’s leanin’ on the chair back, beat — ass.
— “Somethin’s twistin’ up in me — can’t call it. Now every lil’ thing’s pissin’ me off.”
— “You pale as fuck! This night ain’t endin’ ‘fore some dark — ass mess drops us all in despair’s pit! I’m hearin’ far — off yells, sharp — ass pain screamin’.”
— “My lil’ man!”
— “Oh! Ma!… I’m shook!”
— “Hit me quick if you hurtin’.”
— “Ma, I ain’t hurtin’… That’s a damn lie.”
Pops can’t shake his shock:
— “That’s them yells you catch sometimes in dead — ass, starless nights. We hearin’ ‘em, but whoever’s hollerin’ ain’t close — them cries can ride three leagues on the wind, city to city. Folks told me ‘bout this wild shit plenty, but I ain’t never peeped it myself ‘til now. Wife, you said trouble — if realer trouble ever spun through time’s long — ass twist, it’s that cat rattlin’ his crew’s sleep right now…”
I hear far — off yells, sharp — ass pain screamin’.
— “Hope heaven don’t let his birth fuck up the land that kicked him out. He roamin’ country to country, hated every — damn — where. Some say he’s been wild — ass crazy since a kid. Others swear he’s got this deep — ass, gut — born cruel streak he’s ashamed of — killed his folks with grief. Some claim they tagged him with a nickname back in the day, and he ain’t shook that hurt his whole life, ‘cause his banged — up pride saw it as straight — up proof of how fucked humans get from jump, only growin’ worse. That tag? Vampire, yo!…”
I hear far — off yells, sharp — ass pain screamin’.
— “They say days, nights, no damn break, nightmares got him spittin’ blood from his mouth and ears; ghosts park at his bed, throwin’ that live — ass, nasty — ass nickname in his face — pushed by some unknown vibe — soft one sec, roarin’ like war the next, never lettin’ up. Some even say love fucked him up like this, or them yells spill regret for some crime buried in his shadowy — ass past. But most figure some huge — ass pride’s eatin’ him, like Satan back when, tryna match God…”
I hear far — off yells, sharp — ass pain screamin’.
— “Lil’ man, this some rare — ass truth — sucks your age gotta hear it. Hope you ain’t never copyin’ that dude.”
— “Speak, my Édouard — swear you ain’t copyin’ that dude.”
— “Yo, Ma, love of my life who birthed me, I swear — if a kid’s holy — ass word means shit — I ain’t never copyin’ that dude.”
— “That’s tight, lil’ man — you gotta listen to your ma, no matter what.”
Them yells die out.
— “Wife, you done with your grind?”
— “Few stitches left on this shirt — we stretched this night mad late.”
— “Me too — ain’t wrapped this chapter yet. Let’s hit them last lamp flickers — oil’s damn near gone — and finish our shit…”
Kid yells out:
— “If God lets us keep breathin’!”
— “Fly — ass angel, roll with me — you’ll roam meadows dawn to dusk, no work. My dope — ass palace got silver walls, gold pillars, diamond doors. Crash whenever to some heavenly tunes, no prayers. When mornin’ sun pops them bright — ass rays and the happy lark lifts its chirp sky — high, you can chill in bed ‘til you bored. You’ll step on the flyest rugs, wrapped in air sweet — ass with flower vibes.”
— “Time to chill body and mind. Get up, fam ma, on them strong — ass ankles. Fair your stiff fingers drop that work — ass needle — too much ain’t good.”
— “Man, your life gonna be sweet — ass! I’ma hook you with a magic ring — flip that ruby, you ghost like fairy — tale princes.”
— “Stash your daily gear in the safe — ass cupboard while I sort my shit.”
— “Pop it back normal, and you’ll show up how nature built you, lil’ wizard — ‘cause I dig you and wanna juice your happiness, yo.”
— “Bounce, whoever you are — don’t grab my shoulders.”
— “Lil’ man, don’t doze off in kid — ass dreams — fam prayer ain’t kicked off, and your gear ain’t stacked neat on a chair yet… Hit them knees! Eternal Big Man of the universe, your good — ass shine hits even the small shit.”
— “What — you don’t dig clear streams with a thou’ lil’ fish slidin’ — red, blue, silver? You’ll snatch ‘em with a net so fly it pulls ‘em in ‘til it’s packed. From up top, you’ll peep shiny — ass rocks, smoother than marble.”
— “Ma, check them claws — I ain’t trustin’ him, but my head’s cool, ‘cause I ain’t got shit to trip over.”
— “Here we are, bowed at your feet, heavy with how dope you are. If some cocky — ass thought sneaks in our heads, we spit it out with hate and hand it over to you for good.”
— “You’ll splash with lil’ chicks who’ll wrap you up tight. Out the water, they’ll twist you rose and carnation crowns. They got butterfly — ass wings, clear as fuck, and wavy hair flowin’ long ‘round they sweet — ass faces.”
— “Even if your spot’s fly — ass past crystal, I ain’t leavin’ this crib to roll with you. You a fake — ass cat, talkin’ all soft so we don’t hear you clear. Ditchin’ fam’s fucked — I ain’t that ungrateful — ass son. Them lil’ chicks? They ain’t touchin’ my ma’s eyes, yo.”
— “All our days been hymns to your shine. How we been ‘til now, how we stay ‘til you call us off this earth.”
— “They’ll jump at your smallest nod, all ‘bout makin’ you vibe. Want that bird that don’t chill? They got you. Want that snow ride zippin’ to the sun in a flash? They got you. What they ain’t grabbin’! They’d even snag that kite, big — ass like a tower, stashed in the moon, tail tied with silk holdin’ every kinda bird. Watch yourself… peep my words.”
— “Do you — I ain’t breakin’ prayer to yell for help. Even if your body fades when I push, know I ain’t scared of you, bruv.”
— “Ain’t nothin’ big ‘fore you ‘cept the fire from a clean — ass heart.”
— “Think on what I dropped, ‘less you wanna regret it.”
— “Sky Pops, block — block them hits that could crash our fam.”
— “You ain’t bouncin’, bad — ass spirit?”
— “Keep this dope — ass wife who’s held me up when I’m down…”
— “Since you sayin’ no, I’ma make you cry and grind your teeth like a hanged — ass fool.”
— “And this tight — ass son, whose pure lips barely crack for life’s first kisses.”
— “Ma, he’s chokin’ me… Pops, help… I can’t breathe… Bless me!”
A wild — ass irony yell blasts up in the air. Check — eagles, all fucked — up, droppin’ from the clouds, spinnin’ down, straight smoked by that wind — ass hit.
— “His heart’s out… She’s gone too, with the kid in her gut — can’t even clock that fruit no more, it’s so fucked — up… My wife!… My son!… I’m flashin’ back to when I was a man and pops, way — ass back.”
He’d told himself, peepin’ that scene, he couldn’t take that unfair — ass shit. If that power from hell — ass spirits — or straight from his own gut — holds up, that kid shouldn’t make it past night’s end, yo.
Drop 12
Yo, the cat who don’t know tears — ‘cause he always stuffed that hurt deep — ass down — clocked he was in Norway. Out in them Faroe spots, he peeped cats huntin’ seabird nests in them steep — ass cracks, trippin’ that the three — hundred — meter rope holdin’ the dude over the drop was so damn tough. Whatever y’all say, he saw some real — ass human good in that, couldn’t believe his own eyes, yo. If it was him settin’ that rope, he’d’ve notched it up in spots so it’d snap and dump that hunter in the sea! One night, he rolled up to a graveyard, and them young — ass punks who get off violatin’ fresh — dead fine chicks could’ve — if they wanted — caught this talk, mixin’ with the scene ‘bout to pop off right there.
— “Ain’t that right, gravedigger, you gonna chop it up with me? A whale creepin’ slow from the deep — ass sea, pokin’ its head up over the waves to scope the ship rollin’ through them lonely — ass waters. Curiosity kicked off with the whole damn universe, fam.”
— “Homie, I can’t kick no thoughts with you. Been a minute since the moon’s soft — ass glow hit them tomb marbles. It’s that quiet — ass hour when mad folks dreamin’ ‘bout chained — up chicks draggin’ they bloody — spotted shrouds, like a black sky with stars. Sleepin’ cats moanin’ like they facin’ the death — drop, ‘til they wake and clock reality’s three — times worse than the dream. I gotta finish diggin’ this pit with my grind — ass spade so it’s good by mornin’. Real work don’t split focus, yo.”
— “He think diggin’ a pit’s some serious — ass grind! You think diggin’ a pit’s some serious — ass grind!”
— “When that wild — ass pelican decides to let its lil’ ones chow on its chest, only the One who cooked up that kinda love to clown humans watchin’ — yeah, it’s a big — ass give — up, but that move makes sense. When a young cat sees the chick he was wild for in his homie’s grip, he lights a cigar — don’t bounce from the crib, ties tight — ass with pain; that move makes sense. When a school kid, locked in that lycée cage, gets run for years — fuckin’ centuries — mornin’ to night, night to mornin’, by some outcast asshole always peepin’ him, he feels them hot — ass waves of hate stackin’ like thick smoke in his head, ‘bout to blow. From the sec they tossed him in that jail to the day comin’ when he busts out, a mad — ass fever yellows his face, pulls his brows tight, caves his eyes in. Nighttime, he thinkin’ ‘cause he ain’t tryna sleep. Daytime, his mind’s leapin’ over them dumb — ass house walls ‘til he breaks loose or they kick him out like a plague — ass reject from that forever trap — that move makes sense. Diggin’ a pit? That shit’s past what nature can take most times. How you think, stranger, this pick’s gonna shift dirt — that feeds us first, then hooks us up with a chill — ass bed, safe from winter wind howlin’ hard in these cold — ass lands — when the cat swingin’ it, hands shakin’ after feelin’ up dead folks’ cheeks all day as they roll into his spot, sees every night, blazed in fire — ass letters on them wood crosses, the wild — ass riddle humans ain’t cracked yet: soul’s dyin’ or livin’ forever? The universe’s Big Man, I always held my love for Him; but if we ain’t shit after we out, why I’m peepin’ most nights them graves poppin’ open, them cats inside slow — liftin’ lead tops to catch some fresh air?”
— “Hold up on that grind. Them feels fuckin’ you up — you look weak — ass like a stick; keepin’ on’d be wild — dumb. I’m strong — I’ma take your spot. You chill back — hit me with tips if I fuck it up, bruv.”
— “Damn, them arms ripped — ass, and it’s dope watchin’ him dig that dirt so easy!”
— “Don’t let no pointless — ass doubt mess with your head: all these graves sprinkled ‘round a graveyard, like flowers in a field — that line’s off — ass — they worth measurin’ with a chill — ass thinker’s tool. Them bad — ass visions can hit daytime, but they mostly creep at night. So don’t trip on them wild — ass sights your eyes think they catchin’. Daytime, when your mind’s cool, check your soul — it’ll tell you straight the God who built man with a piece of His smarts got endless — ass good and gonna scoop that masterpiece into His arms after we done down here. Gravedigger, why you cryin’? Why them tears like some chick? Lock this in — we on this broke — ass ship to hurt. It’s props for a cat that God figured he could take his heaviest hits. Speak — and since you wish we ain’t hurtin’, tell me what virtue’d be then, that fly — ass goal we all chasin’, if your tongue works like regular cats?”
— “Where the fuck am I? My vibe flip or what? I’m feelin’ some big — ass chill breeze hittin’ my calmed — down head, like spring wind juicin’ up old folks’ hopes. Who this cat spittin’ words so dope — ass no random dude’d drop? What fly — ass tune in his voice’s unmatched flow! I’d rather hear him talk than other cats sing. But the more I scope him, the less his mug feels real. His face’s whole vibe clashes hard with them words only God — love could spark. His forehead, creased with some lines, got a mark ain’t wipin’ off. That mark, agin’ him early — ass, it honorable or fucked? Them wrinkles worth big — ass respect? I don’t know — scared to find out, yo. Even if he spittin’ what he don’t feel, I’m thinkin’ he got reasons to roll like that, sparked by scraps of a broke — ass kindness left in him. He lost in some deep — ass thoughts I ain’t touchin’, and he goin’ hard on a tough — ass job he ain’t used to. Sweat soakin’ his skin — he don’t even clock it. He sadder than watchin’ a kid in a crib. Man, how dark he is!… Where you come from?… Stranger, let me feel you — my hands, that don’t grip livin’ ones much, need to hit the fly — ass strength of your frame. Whatever goes down, I’ll know what’s up. This hair’s the dopest I ever touched in my days. Who’d step up to say I don’t know good — ass hair?”
— “What you want from me while I’m diggin’ a grave? Lion ain’t tryna get fucked with when he eatin’. If you ain’t know, I’m schoolin’ you now. Hurry — ass up — do what you tryna.”
— “What’s shakin’ under my touch, makin’ me shake too, is flesh — no damn doubt. It’s real… I ain’t dreamin’! Who you then, leanin’ there diggin’ a grave while I’m sittin’ lazy — ass, eatin’ other folks’ bread, doin’ jack? It’s sleep time or grind — for — knowledge time. Either way, ain’t nobody out they crib, leavin’ doors wide for crooks. They lock up tight — ass as they can, while old chimney ashes still warm the spot with some leftover heat. You ain’t like them — your gear screams some far — ass land.”
— “Even if I ain’t beat, no point diggin’ this pit deeper. Now strip me — then drop me in.”
— “This talk we been havin’ a sec is so wild — ass, I don’t know what to hit you back with… Think he messin’?”
— “Yeah, yeah, for real, I was clownin’ — don’t trip on what I said.” He slumped, and the gravedigger jumped to prop him up!
— “What’s good?”
— “Yeah, yeah, for real, I lied… I was beat when I dropped the pick… first time I took that gig… don’t trip on what I said.”
— “My take’s gettin’ solid — ass: he’s some cat with mad — ass hurts. Sky keep me from askin’. I’d rather stay lost — he’s pullin’ too much pity. Plus, he ain’t spillin’, that’s straight — sharin’ a heart like that’s double hurtin’, yo.”
— “Let me bounce from this graveyard — I’ma keep rollin’ my path.”
— “Your legs ain’t holdin’ — you’d get lost — ass wanderin’. My job’s to hook you with a rough — ass bed — ain’t got no other. Trust me — I ain’t diggin’ your secrets with this welcome.”
— “Yo, old — ass louse, no wing — covers on your frame, one day you hit me hard sayin’ I ain’t lovin’ your dope — ass mind enough, too tough to read — maybe you was right, ‘cause I ain’t even feelin’ props for this cat. Maldoror’s light, where you steerin’ his steps?”
— “My spot. You a crook who didn’t scrub his right hand with soap after pullin’ some dirt, easy to clock by that mitt; or a bro who lost his sis; or some king — ass dude runnin’ from his lands — my real — deal dope palace good enough to take you in. Ain’t built with diamonds or fancy rocks — just a broke — ass hut, slapped together shitty; but this hype — ass shack got a past the now keeps flippin’ and runnin’. If it could talk, it’d blow your mind, you who don’t seem shook by shit. Mad times, right with it, I watched them dead — boxes roll by, packin’ bones rottin’ faster than my door’s back I lean on. My endless — ass crew grows every day. Ain’t need no regular — ass count to peep that. Here’s like the livin’ — everybody pays a cut based on they tomb’s stack; and if some cheap — ass punk skips his share, I’m told, talkin’ to his face, to roll like them bailiffs — plenty jackals and vultures waitin’ for a good — ass feast. I seen ‘em line up under death’s flags: the once — fly; the cat who didn’t turn ugly after livin’; man, chick, beggar, kings’ kids; young — ass dreams, old — ass bones; genius, crazy; lazy and its flip; the fake, the real; the proud dude’s mask, the low — key humble; vice rockin’ flowers, innocence fucked over.”
— “Nah, I ain’t turnin’ down your bed — it fits me ‘til dawn hits, ain’t far off. Props for your chill — ass vibe… Gravedigger, it’s cool to peep city ruins; but it’s doper to peep human ruins, yo!”
Drop 13
Yo, the leech’s kin was creepin’ slow — ass through the woods. He hit pause mad times, mouth poppin’ open to spit somethin’. But every damn time, his throat locked up, chokin’ back that weak — ass try. Finally, he yells out: “Yo, man, when you stumble on a dead dog flipped over, stuck ‘gainst a gate that’s holdin’ it from floatin’ off, don’t — like them other cats — grab them worms spillin’ outta its puffed — up gut with your hand, stare at ‘em all shocked — ass, pull a blade, and start slicin’ a bunch, tellin’ yourself you ain’t gonna be more than that dog. What damn mystery you huntin’? Not me, not them four fin — ass legs on that polar bear from the Boreal Sea, could crack life’s riddle, yo. Watch out — night’s creepin’ in, and you been posted here since mornin’. What your fam gonna say, with your lil’ sis, seein’ you roll up this late — ass? Wash them hands, hit the road back to where you crash… What’s that cat over there on the edge, comin’ at me with no fear, wild — ass, twisty jumps — and what king — ass vibe, mixed with some chill — ass calm! His look, soft but deep — ass. Them big — ass lids playin’ with the breeze, lookin’ alive. I don’t know him, fam. Lockin’ on his freak — ass eyes, my whole body’s shakin’ — first time since I sucked them dry — ass tits they call a ma. It’s like a blindin’ — ass halo glowin’ ‘round him. When he spit, all nature shut — ass up and shook hard. Since you wanna roll up on me like a magnet’s pullin’, I ain’t stoppin’ you. Man, he fine — ass! Hurts me to say it. You gotta be strong — ‘cause your mug’s more than human, sad like the universe, fly like offin’ yourself. I hate you as hard as I can — I’d rather see a snake wrapped ‘round my neck since forever than them eyes… What!… It’s you, toad!… Fat — ass toad!… Fucked — up toad!… My bad!… My bad!… What you doin’ on this cursed — ass earth? But what you done with them slimy — ass, stank — ass bumps to look this chill? When you dropped from up top, sent down by some big — ass order to vibe up all them livin’ crews, you hit the dirt fast — ass like a hawk, wings fresh from that long — ass, dope — ass ride — I peeped you! Poor — ass toad! Back then, I was thinkin’ ‘bout the infinite, same time as my weak — ass self. ‘Another one bigger than earth cats,’ I told myself, ‘by God’s call. Why not me too? What’s the deal with unfair — ass rules from the top? Creator wild — ass, but the toughest, with that scary — ass rage!’ Since you popped up, king of ponds and swamps! rockin’ shine that’s God’s alone, you half — ass chilled me; but my shaky — ass head’s drownin’ in all this big — ass shit! Who you, yo? Stay… man, stay longer on this earth! Fold them white — ass wings, don’t peek up with twitchy lids… If you bouncin’, we bouncin’ together!”
The toad parked on its back legs (lookin’ mad — ass human!) and, while slugs, roaches, and snails peeled out seein’ they death — ass foe, spit this: “Maldoror, hear me out. Peep my mug, chill like a mirror — I reckon my smarts match yours, bruv. One day, you called me your life’s backbone. Since then, I ain’t fucked with the trust you dropped on me. I’m just a basic — ass reed cat, real talk; but your touch, pullin’ only the fly shit from you, juiced my head up, and I can chop it with you. I rolled up to yank you outta that pit. Them cats claimin’ they your homies peep you, shook — ass, every time they catch you — pale and slumped — in theaters, blocks, churches, or grippin’ that horse with them wired — ass thighs, only gallopin’ at night, haulin’ its ghost — ass boss wrapped in that long black cloak. Drop them thoughts hollowin’ your chest like a desert — they burn hotter than fire, yo. Your mind so fucked you don’t clock it, thinkin’ you straight every time wild — ass words, loaded with hell — ass shine, spill from your mouth. Wretch! What you been spittin’ since you popped out? Sad — ass leftover of a forever mind God built with mad love! You only birthed curses, nastier than starvin’ panthers peepin’! Me, I’d rather have my lids glued shut, body chopped — no legs, no arms, offed a dude, than not be you! ‘Cause I hate you, yo. Why this vibe that’s blowin’ my mind? What damn right you got comin’ to this earth, clownin’ them livin’ here, you rotted — ass wreck ridin’ doubt waves? If you ain’t vibin’ here, bounce back to them spheres you dropped from. City cat don’t crash in villages like some out — ass stranger. We know out there’s bigger — ass spots than ours, with heads we can’t even wrap ‘round. So split!… Peel off this shaky — ass ground!… Show that divine — ass core you been hidin’ ‘til now; and quick — ass as you can, soar up to your sphere — we ain’t jealous, proud — ass as you are! ‘Cause I can’t clock if you a man or more than one! Peace then — don’t think you’ll catch this toad on your trail again. You fucked me up dead. I’m out to forever, beggin’ your forgive, yo!”
Drop 14
Yo, if it makes sense sometimes to roll with how shit looks, this first — ass jam’s cappin’ here. Don’t come down hard on a cat who’s just testin’ his strings — they hummin’ some wild — ass tune! Still, if you keep it real, you’ll clock a strong — ass vibe in there, even with the fuck — ups, fam. Me, I’m ‘bout to dive back into the grind, drop a second jam soon — ain’t tryna lag too long. End of the nineteenth century gonna peep its poet (but he ain’t kickin’ off with some masterpiece — gotta play nature’s rules first); he popped out on them American shores, where the Plata spills, where two crews, once beefin’, now hustlin’ to outdo each other with cash and soul — ass gains. Buenos Aires, South’s queen — ass, and Montevideo, the slick one, throwin’ friendly hands ‘cross them shiny — ass waters of that big — ass river mouth. But that forever — ass war’s parked its wreckin’ — ass throne over them plains, choppin’ down cats with a grin, yo. Peace out, old — ass dude — think ‘bout me if you peeped this. You, young homie, don’t sweat it — you got a fam in the vampire, even if you ain’t feelin’ that shit. Add that scabies — ass mite that’s itchin’ folks up, and you holdin’ two — ass homies, bruv!