what do i do for a living? ...i Don't...i don't DO for a living...i LIVE and i DO whatever the f*** i want...i DO NOT support the fascist war machine and i will not be a slave to this evil, corrupt society...i will not serve their monetary deity and refuse to pay them for my right to exist...i sleep under the stars and feed off the waste from their excessive and compulsive consumerism...i shit in their toilets without buying anything... and i don't flush...i play my guitar on their sidewalks and make children dance and i EAT BAD PEOPLE...
they just dont hire muthafuka’s like me…
I guess i ain’t as pretty as i used to be…
ain’t got tits or an ass or a PHD…
ain’t got an address much less a college degree…
got a rap sheet longer than my job history
and im at least 6 or 8 different kinds of crazy…
they just don’t hire muthafukas like me.
Im a ninja chameleon
blending in with the gentry
standing guard like a sentry
reading the scene like a book I read in elementary
tryn to stay outta the muthufukn penitentary
can anybody hear me?
Im an anomoly, a dark gypsy,
a lost hippie on the highway tryin to find my way home
as the empires crumble around me like Rome
it gets intense in this dome as I roam aimlessly
Im at least a half a dozen different kinds of crazy and prone to muscle spasms and violent siezures...
Ive got nine voices in my head, I think one of them is the devil...
Im one manic-bi-polar-skitzophrenic muthufuka...
a bit autistic with a touch of assburgers, most of my multiple personalities have anti-social disorders, and i may be a hypo-condriac.
I've got OCD,ODD ADD, restless-leg syndrome and bad case of PTSD so don't f*** with me cuz Im bound to lose control.
Im a hitch-hiking, train-hopping, trash-can picking, dumpster diving, petty-thieving, nickel and dime drug dealing Ninja-Pirate-Hippie-Nigga-Muthufuka...
Don't let the complexion fool ya
Im a real Nigga.
blacker than mid-night on the inside...
Im just light skinnded.
Don't tell me what to do.
don't ever tell me what to do.
I don't tell you what to do.
Do I?
I respect your free will as much as my own.
Do what you will, harm none.
I will do the same.
I do what needs 2 b done.
I don't do what doesnt need to be done.
I don't take dictation.
I don't deal with micro-management.
I don't answer rhetorical questions.
I do not tolerate dis-respect, dis-honesty, or dis-trust.
If you want me to cooperate with you,
you will have to start by cooperating with me.
Somebody forgot to tell you,
I'm the muthafukn Boss.
I don't ask nobody for nuthn.
I get mine.
I don't take nuthn from nobody.
I don't have to.
I have everything I need and plenty left over for share.
I don't put my hands on things that don't belong to me.
If I take, I take from what has been stolen from me already.
I consider free-will to be sacred.
I will respect yours just as much as my own as long as you respect mine.
An alian in a strange land, with strange rules and customs...Donning a costume and playing a role...widening perspectives with each new face...He is the Invisible Man.
Only the crazy people can see me...They speak to me from a place of clarity and serenity, awakened from their busy, melo-dramatic dreamworld...Momentarily, for only brief strains of time, they escape their dreadful nightmare to entertain my presence. Their perspectives, usually askew with paranoic hallucinations, become clearer and the light of recognition shows in their eyes as they meet mine. Their heads, bombarded with the meaningless chatter of monkeys and mad-men have suddenly become as silent as a chapel as my words echo in their dome...the laughing lunatics, the homicidal maniacs, the necropheliacs, insomniacs, pedifile preists, guilt ridden frequent mastorbators, closet homo-sexuals; the junkies, the johns, the dicks and the harry's...somehow they all find a reprieve in my presence.
I feel, that to some, I am somewhere in between Dr. Phil and Jesus Christ..."I am the High Priest of the Crazies! Come! Confess your sins to me!" ...the proverbial sign around my neck reads...Why Me? I don't know...Maybe it's because they know...that I'm crazy too!
Or, maybe it's because most people are too pre-occupied with their own meaningless existances to even acknowledge anyone elses... much less a crazy persons existance...after all, who really wants to talk to someone that is so stuck in their own world that they spend most of their time talking to themselves...mostly lamenting of what they lack, nostalgilizing about the past, and ranting and raving about petty offences that have been committed against them...Feeling judged and victimized, catagorized and critisized from all sides can take its toll on the cerebrum...being ostrocized and marginalized by the gentrified socialites can wreak havoc on the head of a tender hearted human being that is malajusted to this crazy, f***ed up, in-human world we're living in.
Love is the awareness of the One universal soul we all share, only by tapping into this egoless state of mind can we truly understand another and be aware of the suffering of another...Awareness is the first step to healing.
Stupid children playing games…
…thinking they know something about Voodoo…
If you believe in Voodoo…You got problems.
If you don’t believe in voodoo…No problems.
I don’t believe in voodoo.
But don’t f*** with me.
Cuz, if you do…
I’ll put some Hoo-Joo on you.
I’ll cast a spell to ring your bell.
I’ll put a curse on you that you won’t ever reverse.
What? You don’t believe in Voodoo?
You’re gonna believe in Voodoo when I get thru with you.
You better bow down to your god and make peace with the devil…
cuz the shadow man’s gonna getcha muthafuka.
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