Provision


One document to take down the web pages(or rumors)that aim to destroy 
my reputation by extorting my perversions.
 Here’s the deal. 
I got nothing on me, but a dirty web history that shows 
I like to jerk off to porn no different than any other dude.

So take your time and your flaws and get outta my face.
Take your business elsewhere, this is my office as far as I know.
I earned it by writing, using my office what it is meant for…having a real career.
My art is all over the place, I can send a telegraph with one
stop.
Over. And out.
I’ll destroy your sense of power over me,
It means…not much to me.
I got the sociological prowess to approach the liberation of our poorest people.
I’m not talking about communistic ideals…I’m thinking the wages we earn be raised a bit higher…the cost of production get dropped down to something logical, and keep in mind, smaller government doesn’t necessarily mean less corruption. I never took any political science courses, but my walks down the streets taught me that the hardest working people in the world are homeless. We make jack shit and bust our asses just to break our backs for…not much. I’m working hard to find some kind of level playing field. Ya, the millionaires can gamble their money away on a mission impossible and lose it all at a moments notice, or the thieves of the dark web can gain it all back real quick without a glitch in the time/space continuum.
But I don’t know much about the stocks and
I don’t know who does what behind closed doors.
I don’t interfere with the people’s personal freedom.
I don’t work on controlling the masses,
I don’t worry about how to speak down to those that are higher than me.
I’m working on getting down to business and
I’m trying real fuckin hard to keep my cool while I get hotter than Chernobyl.
I think that there is something wrong with nuking the page that brings great knowledge to the table.
I think there is something seriously dangerous about mixing the things I hear through the grapevine and the work that goes into making a barley field ready for harvest.
While I know I don’t know everything there is to know,
I think I got a pretty damn good head on my shoulders,
and there might be a screw loose from getting loose on the dancefloor,
but my recreational time is not much different than my vocational work.
I don’t make much for profit, nah I barely got anything at all except my family.
They got me till the end of the earth and if you think you can kill me,
well its goona take more than money and psycho-killers.
I think to myself, quite often, that I know what I’m doing,
leave me to my thoughts you terrorist fucks,
I don’t need to be tested any longer,
I aced the final with a 99.9% and
that’s probably because I can tell the truth without giving away the answers.
Sure you can assume what you think I know,
but you’ll never experience how I learned all of this.
You can assume you know everything about me,
and you still won’t get down to what makes me be.
I got this special ability to conserve all my thoughts,
and think for myself, you think you know me but it’s about time to back off.
I’m a ghostwriter,
I channel the dead,
those who lose their lives for being cognoscente,
the ones who are too honest,
the ones who never give up and stand up to their attackers.
They’ll say that just cause you can read minds and think real loud that you’re schizophrenic, and if you don’t turn it off, then you’re gonna get a frontal lobotomy.
Well that’s the wrong way to process intelligence,
and just cause we get high doesn’t mean we need to be silenced.
I’ll tell you what’s wrong and it starts with our medical books,
they need an update on how RFID chips can alter us.
They need to stop radiating our brains and stop framing the beautiful mind,
if you know what’s good for me,
you’ll listen and don’t interrupt.
You won’t intercept these signals cause they’re not running on electronics,
your frequencies will never find my source when you are running the monopoly on fearing the enemy.
I’ve got about 7 bucks to my name today and I owe my life to many people,
so let me live it and I’ll give it all to the man I choose.
He knows who he is,
I ain’t gotta explain,
and he’s real timid so I’ll try to refrain,
I gotta be honest, I don’t usually trust a man with two names,
but that gives me comfort, maybe I’ll take one of his.
Sorry for the projections, take a deep breathe,
we’ll work through the deep dark times in our dreams.
So many exes in my life, that still support my goals,
hope you don’t mind that I keep them in my phonebook.
I stay good friends with pretty much all of them,
cause once you love somebody, you don’t ever really not.
Keep in mind, new levels of relations may grow from here,
just don’t make any assumptions from your wild hairs.
Don’t assume that just cause I use Iambic parameter that this is pop culture,
or that I will destroy any statues for being too liberal.
I’m telling you that conserving the best ones are the foundation of rock n roll,
and the music I make with my poetry is heavy metal like cobalt.
I’m progressive,
and I use my words as my tools,
don’t dig your own grave for poking a hole in plotting a coupe.
Don’t drive that car off a cliff,
or pull out of the running,
we need somebody to play this game against,
otherwise its just boring.
Digging holes all the way through,
nah, we’ll stop right there before we hurt any roads.
I know I’ve acted out, and been a bit over zealous,
I’ll try to play along and fall into the line,
the one that is miles long to get to see me.
Apparently, I’m popular for being too cool for school,
and dropping out of the sky while flying a pan-pie.
Stop kicking the can,
or smearing the queer,
end this witch hunt and stop burning the faggots.
I’ll keep smoking my cigarettes and continue paying no taxes to a revenue service that is not related to the federal reserve.
I am no slave,
and I do not wish to contribute to an Islamic state that is in no way related to the beauty of the Koran.
My heart goes out to the middle east and all the trauma going on,
But it a very small manner I can relate on one account.
The mafia, the CIA, the hells angels, and the cartel, and many other organizations all fight for the same reasons; protecting their loved ones in the form of control over the cradle of life.
The want for control,
the power of knowledge,
the love of money,
and the deception of the mind.
Its all on the wall,
the one built with bricks,
the house of the rising sun,
or the borders made up of twin towers falling down.
So much terrifying evidence that there is so much more we can do,
to be better to our neighbors,
our friends and our rivals.
One day,
maybe,
our enemies won’t be such mean cheaters,
and I hope that my wisdom will always be archaic,
with a hint of hermetic,
and always intuitive to make sure its true love.
One day…I won’t have to write any letters to fix my mistakes,
I’ll maybe just live like I’ve never died.
This reservoir won’t ever be tapped out,
no it always fills back up,
cause I’m on the side of the divide that isn’t contaminated or wasted or dried up.

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