ypsilanti's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- too much cheesecake too soon the first rule of the game is you don't talk about the game name no names try to deactivate all claims to fame did i say "game"? when i say game i mean prescription decision making pills like drills still make incisions revisions to your suicide note, rewrote post-mortem line it up and snort some, get fucked up and report once you're done and you be done for like the sixth song by catpowor sounding sad and dour had to bust over to next door and what's more i been feeling more at ease in the streets without streetlights where they knife-fight like they breathe cut and paste your face like some colorforms, stuck in sophomore dorms and dining halls the casting call has called for y'all, but y'all still dressed in desert storm uniforms the day is warm and the night is the cruelest you clueless useless old bitch with your new bitch let me move this up the stairs and thru the arches my rhyme styles are catharsis like lemonade to parchedness like softserve to the hardest like neil young to harvest you hungry like some starved shit like prince without the artist some dayglow rainbow from san fransisco a fiasco in the disco dressed up in blacklight crisco last time they played was trumbullplex back when it was still just trumbull i missed it, kinda stumbled, people asked me and i mumbled but that was 1998 and this is half way thru 2003 it takes more than a drunken viewing of the 8 mile dvd to emcee even if you really loved the battle scenes and downloaded all the mp3s and burn that shit on burned cds and play that shit to infinity like weekly, you still come off weak, b. belive me, i know goodnight. 3:56 a.m. - 4.16.03 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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