Verbalchemicalmetaljammery

Shit. Forgot I don’t have a rhythm.

But then again I don’t need one because I’m just spinning the wheel of fortune knowing I’m not abhorring my horoscope as a token; it’s more like Horus, no joke, and he'll have written that in a tome like J.R.R. Tolkien. But I’m not tokin’ like Gandalf, necessarily, just freestyle-flowin’ acapella. This is a last standoff between x-men and the opposers, and I am no opponent (you know it). In fact I’m not opposed to conjuring your patronus while knowin’ your nose can grow by virtue of how much you WANT to know even though it’s not necessarily curiosity that is seeping and peeking into our subconscious defeating. But I’m not going to be preaching, standing on these knees and praying to the Old Testaments. And yet...you guessed it. Shit. Ergo, we’re feeling exactly sharp like a tack, see, on this track / “T,” with that omnipresent genie, the kundalini energy. It’s going and flowing up our backs and I feel like every single thing I say or “rap” shall get absorbed with help from the Force. Know that you can levitate, never hate, and feel every single vibration, sensation going beyond the five senses. You guessed it: It’s like a basketball game and we’re full-court pressing, defencing – “Die Another Day.” 008, okay...?

I’ve just got to say that GLORY IS TODAY.