Lately I’ve been feeling that I’m living in a time loop,
No matter how much it repeats itself, it don’t feel like my mind grew,
Dusty spirits yawn for attention in the high noon,
Rising dead speak in my dreams thinking I’ll respond soon,
Follicles plucked out until there’s no fine tune,
Haunted radio waves jaunt through my spirit to bring more typhoons,
Upon thee, sorry for bringing up my shortcomings that only give me long weeks,
Circular pains are a quiet storm when I’m around the Mobb Deep,
Don’t nobody like you when your mind bleak, is what I’ve noticed,
Another goofy dog head down in the pool, floating…

:)Like green onions in your dumpling sauce(:

Dipped, minced, and fried until golden brown,
People in the fields are looked as broken nouns,
Checked over constantly like dog tags when a soldiers down,
How many borders are in death so my soul can count,
I’ll melt an ICE agent’s eyes like glaciers up north if they see me,
Store the water for myself like the wonderful company that owns Fiji,
Athletic build ain’t what you need be,
They want us beat up and burned like Emmett Till pirated through a CD,
You can’t peel the colors of my dashiki,
Leaky brain recovering from what it read in the think piece,
Our gods made us orphans to this ground because of our impiety…

:)Like a droplet of dumpling sauce(:

Descended from the same bucket, yet we got our own way of handling,
Some stay curious while others stay mannequin,
Numb to experiences outside until it affects them directly and then they got the balls to say,
“What’s happening?”
Man I don’t know…
Last week I saw a man impaled by an icicle,
Didn’t bother to reach out a hand because they were both stuck to the bicycle,
Spiraling through every day like a rat stuck in a hotel getting noise sprayed…

(:Like if their desvelado tears are dripping dumpling sauce:)

It’s a hard knock life when you get caught on sight with the wrong people that say to
don’t lie,
Parachutes in paradise won’t roll your odds out like a pair of dice so that shit won’t fly,
Stuck in between being so mean and so nice,
You’re gonna need more electricity to crackle my skin, maybe four kites,
Black and blue like the baton held by the po-lice,
Pull ice out the chain and let the diamonds rain upon grown rice,
Finitude is founded and founding as Foucault writes,
Born in a former British colony, we ain’t never had no rights,
A parade on your birthday can easily be made with a low price…

(:Like it or not, king, your tea is going to get spilled like dumpling sauce;)