The Process (of the H Event)

The Process (of the H Event).

 

 

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The Process is piece by piece with repetition of ill matter

I’m on a mission to fill fatter spots than ducks splatter

Duck & gather your things & run far

‘Cause I’m flippin’ this spit in your eardrum

My repertoire is to come correct with this affection

Alarming like detection / ‘cause I’m startlin’ you

With effects from sessions / & then next,

My words will bust through your head like sex lust

‘Cause you’re bein’ fed with this verbal lead of complex thrusts

Shit’s ill / as I switch up the sick skill,

Flipped / unexpectedly like fate when karma trains slip

Off track & spill / destiny / a wreck successfully in check

Like you’ll be / when it’s your face that I fill

With toxic Kum of Holy Shit

Spillin’ ridiculousness of ill Words of sickness on your tits

I flip & smoke the Tree,

Lettin’ it loose over the façade of God’s Land,

In my own space pod / I command the beat

& enhance the mindset / for you to understand 

The deceit in bittersweet trances of silhouettes

In fact the threat / of cracked regret / of shit lost

Is past / so I can cross / & surpass the laws

That’ve been lettin’ tax upset the bots

Who kicked back / relaxed / & forgot the max cause,

The facts that don’t pause / in bein’ more ever present & clear

Than the voices a paranoid s-s-schizophrenik hears

Enter fear: I am near the horizon that’s blood red

& I’m feelin’ the Rain starting to sprinkle with the wind

I’m parting with sin. -MIKE EYE

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