Mother Lodge 459

John Coffey

Smokey: BEATDEMONS Christopher Chris Gomez; Mark Christopher Hardin Jr

Speak of the Devil

Gnosis

JUNGLE: Donte Moore (Producer); Isaiah Varela (Contributor)

13 Ghosts

14 Days of Darkness

Predator

Keep The Hope Freestyle

Bone Tomahawk

GANYMEDE

Potiphar's Wife

Harambe

The North Node

The Corpse Flower

The Magic Conch Shell

SCHORL

Genesis 28

Mr. Wifebeater

Vincenzo

The Wendigo

The Antivenin

BOO!

Azurite

Lobster Enchilada [End of Shift]

Phoenix-Storytelling: CULTXRE (Shashwat Goyal)

Flamel's Stone

Poetic Justice

Blackout Freestyle

Lord Knows

Wu Wei Hymns

Not Your Savior

VALKYRIE

Uh Huh feat. Confirmation Pigeon

Detox Freestyle

Zelda Freestyle

Rose Quartz

Hecklers

Prod. MORTE

Niggas love to play victim
Play act like you’re the one to blame, Leonore to a Florestan
I’ve accepted that I’m probably just the villain in their story, then
Niggas want things gory for a Holy Man, they lookin deathly hallowed like Altman, cannot get with the program.

Sorry Sam, it's inspirationally adjourning, closed casket to all of the organized street theater performing
Contact juggle these cojones
Juxtaposed by forewarning, I clock em with a sundial
Then trace they line of sight with My fovea
I catch em lacking and snoring, wipe the gruel from their camisoles, and watch them fit a new war frame
While adjusting their corset, frozen in time with no concern to console em, or your abhorrence
How many lies were outspoken? And how many eyes have I opened?
The poor confessions of a stowaway, I’m isolated in the planes wheel well, and I got more to souls to save.
I got a hard stop to they board games, while they plot to shit on your grave, won’t stop to spit on your name
They’ll rot before they get to warp things, negligent tort reforming
Won’t stop and you can’t ever force Me,
My life is now a bitter war game
Good Fella on the Mean Streets of a Shutter Island, like Scorsese, or Vorhees
Decor him in a straight jacket, while being fed through a tube, you hear a knock from the doorman
Coronal mass ejection, solar flare got a whole lotta niggas going crazy…
Cooking that egg white on a stove plate, poison the breast milk for your baby…

I Am their Last Temptation, After Hours and in your Dreams, an Archaeologists Smoke Break
That home is sitting in the Stone Age
Lilac City out in Spokane
Hijack millions from your bank
A little morsel for your efforts, and then it’s right back here to snorkeling
Niggas wanna play out in your face…
How many of you have forced hands, sworn to silence in your torment?
From Coldplay to Cordae, the speed of sound is squeezing down upon your brain
Poundtown Black Snake Moan she is draining down the River Jordan
Play with her pussy to obsession, but claims she doing it in your name (brother.darrell)
Reading scrabble tiles Axis Deer and Mouflon Sheep in her storage
Smellin Dead Sea in the morning, won’t find Me in a catch and release foreplay

Now you got some shit that won’t go away…

Lilith’s obsessed with My light, trying to give a Superhead performance
Threatened by the strength of your sex
Paralytic convergence, I got a whole new axe to grind specifically for all your heads
Standing around in a circle, peeled caps Kubrick’s Clockwork Oranges
Eyes glued shut into place, porcelain masks for the portrait
Staring at you dead inside, tranquilized like the horses
Black market cargo shipments, overwhelming all the forklifts
Kentucky Fried optic neuritis, opt outta military forces
Poor vision for 40years, all of which is still performative
Niggas trying to set a false precedent, smacking jowls with the president, doubling down on the discontent
Eliminate their bowels like it’s heaven scent
Rotting flesh seeping over the excrement
Blow flies hover over cement
Shit on Me, that poor squat led to a ripped sartorius
Seminal fluid DNA collected from quadriceps femoris
Escalated it all to corporate, only for it to be short-lived
Nobody’s really out here giving any fucks anymore, kids
They want you accumulating more debt
Humiliate you in front of your bitch
Pass her around while the church bells ring all through the hallways
It’s no surprise your Christian wives are getting porked
When you’re on deployment
And you already know your wives are enjoying it.
This is what you get for being a war vet
I don't condone that.

Fidelio Freeverse

Prod. MORTE

Throw that shit back
Throw that shit back
Watch how I get My lick back when I spit facts
Whiplash ole Miss running on syntax error, got all of her thoughts all mismatched
You know that I got a mouth on Me; when I speak I disrupt fallacies, from the Deep South
Niggas wanna catch the fade with Me, get bitch slapped
If I set the stage I give em gift rap, addressing the tit for tat with riff raff
With a twist of the handlebar mustache, like jib jab
Terrified that they let the Beast Out, Hear Me out…
Walked right out of Hell, then left the Devil feeling atrophied, I said bitch better put down them Big Macs
And that’s on big fax, I’m UNC now, make necks snap
(Bitch what?)
Counting sheep, lambs breath, I got Salarymen questioning their very own mortality
Alleviate the mass Karōshi, slit the wrists of the sycophants, Poor Dad Rich Dad…
Bridge the gap, I’m the catalyst for the Calvary through this here formality
Holy Countenance, don’t look Me in the eye if you seek to deny My soul’s alchemy
Asking for representation, counterbalancing the net neutrality, they even shunned Galileo Galilei
I sit pridefully here in the Ring of Fire, knowing the 915 will go to bat for Me if I have to leave
Burn this whole muthafucka down, if a nigga wanna try to run track on Me
Live close to Yeshua, I speak to Him privately there on My balcony, nigga

I get all of the answers that I need for the flock, I Am the Shepard for all of humanity
Even Magdalene smiled at Me, happy that I keep coming back on the battlefield
You niggas are soft as baby shit, no soul-litigating a 92 years old all for an oxtail soup, here I clean up the casualties

Each lifetime I’m shown is a fuckin tragedy
They ask why I stay high, cus I Heard the whole town spoke real passively, lil ignoramuses…
CIA ask for a friend, I break through cybersecurity maladies, and maybe that’s word to McAfee,
(cus I gotta switch up the modality)
Can’t force a compliance with that wooden paneling
Put a bounty on him, but the hitman had to respect God’s boundaries, now they can only watch Me from the gallery, still life, but a life worth imagining…
In life I’ve met one masterpiece, her choir practice like diamond embezzling
Lanai paradise, only if corporate America
Is willing to put a motherfuckin crown on Me
No true Kings of Philanthropy, just entropy
Billions planned to misappropriate, and a million parents with mouths to feed,
Electronic Benefit Transfers getting cancelled, single Mom’s pampered, yet mass consumption a cancer.
Go on throw that shit back, you're a dancer! I thank you!

Fatigue Freeverse

The Hand of God: 🤣

Re-release of the Black Witch Moth Project, and MORE.

Do NOT follow Me. Just enjoy the content.

Warmest regards,

TheEmpress™️

brother.darrell

Pinned to spotlight

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