V1CE- one- two- one- two- V1CE

‘write what u feel, ‘kay?

Meaning ain’t enough

When you’re lyrically bankrupt’

good ol’ Scratch fell forward on his blade

                     Poisoned pen letters

Wait a minute…!

                       Bare backs show no tracks

                                        As it’s all in the arms

Self- imposed -paper-cuts

                          Raises heat, as well as alarms

All style and no content makes a robin redbreast blush

                                    Feathers stack up

        And colours me flushed

This is the worst nightmare as well the wettest dream

                                         White rooms, white hall, white door

                All procured to get me clean

                                              Fa’, Ma’, I bow to what you left behind

                                                                   In the boot of your car

                             Like (for example in this instance right about… now!)

                                                  All those inherited vices

                                                                Incrementally found


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