Thursday, 8 September 2016


You crossed me.
You led to my crucifixion.
And you still expect my love.

Well, well, well.
Here we are.
YOU are the gatekeeper to my dreams.
Should I greet you with the gift I reserved for J Dilla?
Or should I heat you with words way iller?
Either way, you're needed.

But you crossed me.
Without dribbling.

On my court.

Now, since I'm clear on your position in music (be it now or forever), I should reveal your identity.
But to do so is to violate G6-9.
And I have yet to do so.
Respect my decision.

So, mysterious blue man...

Do I not deserve a Grammy?
Or am I not "volatile" enough?

Kids, if you want a Grammy, respect the architect(s).
But there is one.
Right in front of you.
Who speaks from my soul.
Both by choice and by force.

And when we combine, we become...

The Devil.

~follow the buzzards~

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