electric plug

 “Sixty-Foot Table / Black Boxes”

In no-way wrong missions, tracked — cop cam on the table, sixty feet tall,
city fables crackle from a bowl-bong, stick lit, bonfire calls.
Wood like life — leaves scream, bullets whistle past my dome,
thrust my knife through my neck — who gon’ criticize the chrome?
I been optimized, Xmas cards red & gold, read by young and old,
they lost a family — I sent an AI DMT-sniffin’ MMA fuck-off dog. bold.
Tackle the fakers, end the song, new evil lyrics spawn a brand new era,
curfew ticks the clock while moms and dads watch sons carried in black-metal carriers.
Century cages locked round us — ain’t rustin’, ain’t decayin’ — mechanized grief,
coffins pushed like product on a line, they sell our last breaths as relief.
I’m tryna do my time to rhyme but spirits gone, the clock’s the judge,
we took a lot for granted — sing along inside an industry run by moles and sludge.
I toss raw fish stuffed with bacon, wake in tracks where maze-makers hide,
buildings are just doors for business makers, cracked dreams sold on the other side.
My IV burns wild like fire in my veins, then suddenly slide to ice,
wise ass on Onyx mainframe — Nox security lending hands for price.
Tired loops, anxiety runs out, water kisses cut deep, almost gone,
made grass into shapes, sand to glass, debris fountains where walls once stood strong.
God retires — leaves his plugs in charge — powers split, death’s left in the cuts,
mower blades make forests slow to grow, moldy straw hats damp with the gut.
I’m a pirate drinking from the captain’s last cup — faults overflowing like poured wine,
two men killed God back then; in the chaos we swore we’d always ride the line.
Miss hit, quick side kick, piston kisses from a stick — bricks laid for people to swish,
maybe a few seconds left to fix the right way — Earth outnumbered twenty to one, this is it.
No-start ways ain’t welcome — arms swing, ears burned, indica couch, side weapons drawn,
Juggalos fold into the crew — most badges win so we ain’t left alone at dawn.
We lash out, aliens scatter, gods turn family to ashes, tick-lock tick-click,
ships like suns multiply — can we get help? We beg on knees to the cosmic crypt.
Our button to the past protects the future — deep serenity, deeper prayer keep it lit,
anonymity says “go” — blind son of a bitch listening to the head noise, counterfeit.
Religion builds chairs filled with tides — this ride wholesome but raw, hot-rail eyes closed,
I run smack through a nine-tree needler, planter strong and scared, veterans posed.
I step down as chairman — it’s been a good run, seeds the ground — grow foreverin,
I point out qualities to self, mouse clicks begin the web groove — make something awesome again.
Lost, carried distances, unchanged lifestyle in thirty-one years, or two-thousand twenty-five,
gov says my age — they join my side, new day starts, debts tossed, ashes on the boss’s dive.
Packed up scared, suicidal calls on redial, popo acting crazy, matches in the case

rap, Dark romantic trap-electro with witch house ambience; detuned synth choirs, distorted 808s, and glitchy percussion