6200
was early to the party.... so I left— what a waste
Took the hate train home put the secrets in the safe
Blood and bone but they called it water
Dear Heavenly Father,
You carried me…
Grew my nails when they buried me
Now all I need is a manicure
A poet without an auditor
Got over it for the overture
And again comes the train — Choo Choo
All a board on NuNu and the crew…
I’d rather walk
Step over the chalk
I balk at a Cold case
Only give chase to crimes of passion and faux pas of fashion
"I can’t get no satisfaction"
“And that man comes on the radio telling me some useless information— supposed to fire up my imagination”
On some Mick Jagger
Guess I got back my swagger
From some other dagger
Can’t steal from me ni$$a
Cause Ericka’ll sue
And then start a business— I thought you knew
Time tells the actions and the heart’s of men
Calendar’s full but I penciled you in
And now I’m fashionably late
For the fresh hell— oh well, hope heaven can wait
Cuz I hate it here— shoulda had a V8
Or a Bloody Mary…
Run quick see— as the hours get scary
"I ain't a killer but don't push me..."
"Revenge is like the sweetest joy next to gettin pu$$y"
Picture paragraphs— I, JCole lament-n-repent
Swore off vengeance ‘n vagina—I’m celibate
But still get horny for the snuff
Forgive me Lord— I’m still workin on stuff
And the lawyer in me longs for justice— for the silence of the lambs
And forensics for the blood on his hands
"Baby I just wanna love ya"— back in the day— listenin’ to Jay
Now I wish I never met him at all
That or left those tickets at will call
Til this day— He still singing off key
Should’ve known who he was— who he’d be
When he said who he envy:
Ye, Jay and the Talented Mr Ripley
On some ***, marry, kill
Said you won’t but I know you will
Buffalo Bill, he'd wear skins if he could
Now he Uma Thurman wear her SKIMS if she would
Master manifester you are what you eat
I like my pu$$y n my whiskey neat
But I’ll leave the TMI to TMZ
Talented Ripley… riddle me this
AI n you— what’s the big ***in’ difference
Can’t miss the Boat on an Opensea
Better secure my voice on a NFT
Kelly Slater better watch his wave
The ghost of Pac better watch his grave
Hide ya wife— hide ya kid...
Yo grandmama better watch her wig
He’d steal Flo’s flow and her Progressive gig
But you can’t insure a soul after it’s sold
Midas would do anything to ensure the gold.
He can’t help it though Flo...
He got no core sense of self
But if wealth is health— we both poor and Stage IV
And a party just aint a party anymore
Written the morning of May 3, 2024
