Read this only at night, when the freaks are out rolling,
My words and rhymes, sometimes might seem stolen,
I ain't trippin' on you...
Throw the book into the dance hall:
it bounces like super glue,
Cohesion,
Adhesion,
And in a heartbeat,
Like the sugar called Equal I'm... sticky sweet,
See...like....get the cactus,
But it hurts when you grab it,
Needles through the skin, through the bones in your fingers,
Pain or Ecstasy,
Yet it lingers on...
on...
on....
on and on,
And it can never be wrong,
The ceiling's on the floor,
(Nevermore, Nevermore,)
Steal a glimpse towards the window: wrought iron bars the door,
Now the need for escape grows stronger,
You: weaker,
Like a chemist brewing secrets in a basement beaker,
Thrust into the backwoods by the fist of oppression,
Silently, meekly, submit to obsession,
A mass rises up and points the finger of blame,
But you retreat to your corner: can't break the grip of shame.
Lame,
Contain,
Fuel for your brain,
Put a cap on it: it's a strain,
Watching, eyes wide, a big behind,
The faster you move, the less you mind,
Falling backwards, into a pool of sludge
or jello, that tastes like chocolate fudge,
Bloating and floating, into the Stratosphere,
Rising above, "Nope, nothing wrong here,"
I'll win an award, my record's going vinyl,
Steal a toy train from some kid called Lionel,
Breathe out a cloud of dust, and watch the stars shine,
Raiders grab a trophy, it's a message: sublime,
From the Heavens, Good Heavens, I can't believe I said that,
So I grab a peace pipe, and that's the end of my rap...
- Spike Satori
