Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god
It was PCP, Johnson
She had eyes like glass,
They were naught but gold and silver, so cold.
I could smell the taste of her tears,
And I could hear the feel of her third eye.
She was Owissa of the Rez, so glossy and clear.
But she was so Nanook of the North, so muddy and speckled.
So I told her I had a condom with her name on it.
It was fo sheezy on tha real.
They tell me she was ugly; they say she's a real beauty.
We decided to squash the story and go another direction.
The shallow heart of benevolence.
The hormonal reproduction of her parental loins,
She sprouted wings and flew to the past,
Swearing that good ol' Suge would have her day.
And when her wings fell, the world began to burn religiously.
A female masculine by force.
She held truth when she declared dinner to be serve to the invisible.
La Mer.
And the sea told her that the treasures would be hers,
Once she shed her wings to cry for the faults of human love.
November 13, 2007
Suge
*this poem isn't supposed to mean anything*
They were naught but gold and silver, so cold.
I could smell the taste of her tears,
And I could hear the feel of her third eye.
She was Owissa of the Rez, so glossy and clear.
But she was so Nanook of the North, so muddy and speckled.
So I told her I had a condom with her name on it.
It was fo sheezy on tha real.
They tell me she was ugly; they say she's a real beauty.
We decided to squash the story and go another direction.
The shallow heart of benevolence.
The hormonal reproduction of her parental loins,
She sprouted wings and flew to the past,
Swearing that good ol' Suge would have her day.
And when her wings fell, the world began to burn religiously.
A female masculine by force.
She held truth when she declared dinner to be serve to the invisible.
La Mer.
And the sea told her that the treasures would be hers,
Once she shed her wings to cry for the faults of human love.
November 13, 2007
Suge
*this poem isn't supposed to mean anything*
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It was PCP, Johnson
It was PCP, Johnson
