With the Cheshire Grin


November 2016


Dub In Peace

Future tombstone speaks:

“He let the ink flee

Assaulted lead like it’s weak

Gave up family, they weren’t his Gs

What thou know bout he”

I’m paying for my grave

I’m a nigga, NIGGA, FUCK being saved 

Still chained, runaway slave 

Bleeding in the days

As the moon turns away

Stars refuse to wave

Light gives way for the pain

Mercy in the storms, love for the rain

Perfect scene for ink stains

As the blood leaks

Into each curve and every piece



He’s darkness, he’s fighting with lighting

The power emanating is frightening

Refusing to lose, courage is tightening

No matter the strength, fear is forever, it’s biting

He’s crying, bleeding, still fighting

He’s offending through defying

A threat, question inspiring

She’s subconscious chaos struggling with order

Erratic coloring through borders

Soldier, survivor, leaving no mourners

Painting from the corner

No pain she’s ever shown or

Choice followed by remorse

Never conformin to one form

This darkness is ever changing

The thought process derange-ed

One wonders what could’ve made it

Lives, thrives, it feeds on motion

From emotions to new notions

Deeper than all the oceans

It’s leaving no trace, no notice

Quieter than dead silence

Inter-knowledgeable mileage

We movin, likened to riots

Releasing that voice inside

When that war is on outside

You gon opt for which side?


Instrumental with the weapons

Praise to the Smith & Wesson’s

Artist skilled leaving a red message

Loud or suppressed, just leaving messes

Pulling out the tools

On the ignorant crews

Leaving mothers singing blues

Index finger got a tic, loud with an acous’

So many models for the artist, so poised and traced in white

The sun is forever clueless, homicides happen at night

The moon and all the stars the only witnesses of the might

Such a mad monster, baring metal with some red lights


Breaking bodies into caskets like multiplying and subtracting with mathematics

I don’t ration the wrath

Patience is stuck in the past

As I create more patients in the present’s path

Decisions too fast, so the language is crass

Responding in kind, cuz I don’t give a fuck back

I’m a target, I’m an Oreo, I be that Spic Black

A baby born from madness, rarely informed of the facts

A child abused pretty hard, so it grew then erratic

Absent father, hateful mother, call that childhood status “Static”

A coke-addicted grandma, with a bickering family that’s massive

Fuck life and everything, everyone, tried to crash it

Failed attempts, a nigga finally said, “Pass it”

Feelin so misplaced and old, like the age is Jurassic

Just trying to learn and grow, so the aim is, “Surpass It”


I’m a deadbeat friend, I’m awkward when it comes to y’all

I dread hangin out at bars

I’d rather smoke on cigars

While listening to some beats and bars

That chill get a nigga on charge

Maybe some illegal activities hidden from the law

Bumpin chops inside the car

I’m livin, I’m thinkin large

Stress-free is what I call the cause

Mantra: “Fuck It, No Prob'”


I hear a beat and I panic

The letters drip out automatic

My heart is beating so manic

Jibber jabber like static

This nigger stagger fantastic

My heart is giving a rattle

This body ready for battle

Riding without a saddle

Gritted teeth for the hassle

Tweaking like I’m without reason

Writing like I’m elder seasoned

Preaching like I’m pulpit deaconed

Walkin like I’m leadin, never with the followers

Stocked well with some beatings, so I’m comfortable with the harsher words

Harken to the bleeding on the walls from us litterateurs


No sense of self, inside or out

No volume for the whisper or shout

No footing or balance for the route

Lost in a whirlwind of thought

Shrieking questions from the pain wrought

“Die” to survive is what life taught

Change by logic, hope, and chance

It’s hard to understand the standstill dance

Problematic spaceman, colorful fiend, practicing a deeper stance

A focus in the curves

Taking careful steps in the words

Taking note of the best, the worst, the now, the inverse

Living in the change

Causing an unknown in the range

Markings made in the landscape critiqued as strange

Relationship with society becomes distant, estranged


Tilted crown, a black faced clown

Ruining how you want it now

Listen to my mouth

I’m spittin proud, I got that loud

Similar to blaow, kapow

Learning from within the shroud

This is the cause for all your pouts

You niggas ain’t eating now

Hallucinating with the crowds

So better than well-endowed

Call me “Motherfucker” *(WOW!)

This the bite, the bark, the growl

Got a large kinda *(HUH)* and I spread that shit around

Fee Fi Fo Fum, stompin upon the ground

Where’s the magic? Peep the beings, there’s few of us ever around.


A pest to the rest, wanna arrest, get aggress’

I confess to be the best

With a rep of narcissess’, I’m never less

Funky fresh dressed to impress, I’m kissin breasts

Feelin so blessed

I’m cookin, wristin, guess who’s chef

Cleanest with a background from the mess

This real is hazardous, it’s pounding in the chest

Closer to the moon and nights, cuz I never sleep, don’t rest

I guess I may be stressed, but I suppress, then express with an artistic finesse

A skeptic with all believins

Just tearin apart the meanings

A rebel with all the reasons

Survivor through all the beatings

Imaginative with tweaking thinking

Lookin for the progress in the process

A pest when it comes to rest and the rest, I confess

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