so this madame came and stole my heart like a nightengale far in a port off the coast of south central LA
an abstract scene like that of a musique television movie award ceremony that was not about music but rather the control of it..
true rebels were we... we'd stop traffic like genevieve in rush hour 3.
oh ms. parker, not like travis, but like Bonnie..
i was writing the masterpiece in a bulletin for her to see..
and yet, i, Clyde Barrow could not achieve what id like to achieve...
to win an award like the hypocrite i was, oh the irony..
i could rap with the best of em, Drake, Kanye, Lupe, Andre, Jay..
i could play with the best of em, Mayer, Morello, Vai...
i could produce like the mess of em, Dre, Timbo, Premiere, Daft, Oizo, Sebastian, Pharrell...
i could sing like the skunk of em..
i could spin and cut like the muck of em..
but id rather listen to the soundtrack of a French robbery and stuff her bra full of dirty money and lick her pussy til the sun went down and go out to the dive bars and buy everyone drinks and cocaine... forever.
bonnie and clyde we are.
id love to watch her flirt and almost fuck all the men who desired her...
and id let her go like the butterfly she was cuz i knew she was Mr. Barrow.
fresh out of words. american x stick my jaw to the curb cuz id rather eat this earth than choke on the synthetic strawberries bigger than my left nut.
en van garde,
88:88
Haha, nah we stopped doin that when we got careers...now we only smoke in public at concerts, parties, putt-putt courses, movies, restaurants, and sports games...shoulda made it out to vegas man.