| The only heart in hell | 
| A to the O to the R to the T to the A | 
| To the blade of the day and the stay of decay | 
| Left embedded when I’m deaded | 
| In the sing bone poem stone of say | 
| Push it… | 
| Sun moon sickle | 
| To endeavor of old | 
| It goestake take take | 
| In the 200O | 
| We more off order of importance to the human code | 
| More hollow Modern motto for the walk dead toll | 
| And Into the narrows we March… | 
| You want it more barren and stark | 
| These children don’t have hero’s | 
| And they’re liking the dark | 
| Has the uppercase I so stoned the heart | 
| I’d rather someone steal my hands | 
| Than lay theirs red on my art | 
| Must one make poem to fist | 
| Then put rest to wish and resolve to | 
| Wouldn’t daughter in a gutter like this… | 
| So can one shatter as a vessel in a world of shell | 
| If so, I only heart in hell… | 
| Did Ya rip it | 
| Did ya burn it | 
| Did ya hear it when you heard it… | 
| Is you is or is you ain’t bright light | 
| In that broad dark of the trite | 
| And all things blues thief in the night | 
| Unsober soldier of the stereotype | 
| Are you abuse of flesh blood and the mic | 
| Filling out a hollow with life | 
| Or is this to you | 
| What rap had always sounded like… | 
| Prey tell, How does it feel to fold | 
| Selling not man but the mold | 
| For another long lick of the coal | 
| And in the wake of such, waste no breath | 
| One must you see my science is death | 
| How death? | 
| More deathful than the sicking of this world on an infant… | 
| More deathful than the waste of freezing meaning in instant… | 
| So Do you just shell or do you only heart in hell | 
| Tell me | 
| Wealthy singster prey, tell… | 
| Does the great white sugeknight above you | 
| Comb your hair while I hell… | 
| I hell… |