Uploaded September 2016 | Updated September 2026, 18 hours ago
I have been writing for a few years; this current one, I have been working on a project:
"White Trash"
It will be releasing around December through Treedome Productions, a collection of young artists in the Minnesota area.
Link to our YouTube page: youtube.com/channel/UCTQgmpDzPCUi1WQVjYQzTMw
Filmed by Nathaniel Nelson
- DISCLAIMER -
This is an original body of work by myself and my affiliates at Treedome Productions. Credit is due to the Youtube user Ben Ephla for the static effect used and altered at the end of this video. I will not be profiting off of this video, however will take action if this video is copied or altered for personal use as it is my original work. Sharing is promoted.
- LYRICS -
To sick to go play out/side
Not with the fake. Spout/ing
Fag to my face while
Pads kept in Dolces. Mouths
Spitting sorbet sweet 16's, b-day celebration.
Just more sperm who ran a red at the exit.
Chains the new nooses.
Whips bump same abuse that
Slays Billboard like dragon,
Balls hang like Goku's did.
New Castle cap to basket
Passed Sundays in pews. Sit.
Sobered up by the wafers,
Saviors blood made him puke. Ick.
He forcing the demons out,
Believe he bulimic now?
His finger reach projectile,
The peace never keep it down.
These squares Cheese Nips,
Two W's, one E involved. Tabby
Step up to ring come-up fucks from the semen towel.
Force of Katrina mixed with Luke,
But he lost his head.
Anxious from Mary, but Peter
Keep on unleashing webs.
Keep up with debt like
I'm Usain with two missing legs,
Screaming, "Sharkisha!" beating dead steed
That Tabby's depressed.
Feeling hollow though dapper, dammit.
Shadows fit like wet wool.
Style owned ain't Rabbit's 8 Mile dammit.
In the womb, soaked in pen ink
For 9 months, dammit.
Typed quotes behind mom burping me,
I'm cold, dammit.
Minnesotan shirtless with slurpee,
While snow piles up with who's hurt me
Down my road. It's certain my flow alerting
Foes like I chirped their Nextel.
Dial tones when calling for God's guidance,
Don't pick up like I don't with my folks,
I'm sorry.
So why not pop doze pills?
Hoping Zorro will strike the sheep hopping, still
Lost count like y'all without the shrill
Tick from the metronome. Bitch, drop the quill.
Depression set in, sure, but jotting thoughts with skill.
Blurred vision when liquor hitting my tonsils, chill
Stir another one - Khaled tolerance - vomit, ill
As Doom coughing till mask drop.
Best darkness like these cops who kill.
Thank you. Stay tuned.
I have been writing for a few years; this current one, I have been working on a project:
"White Trash"
It will be releasing around December through Treedome Productions, a collection of young artists in the Minnesota area.
Link to our YouTube page: youtube.com/channel/UCTQgmpDzPCUi1WQVjYQzTMw
Filmed by Nathaniel Nelson
- DISCLAIMER -
This is an original body of work by myself and my affiliates at Treedome Productions. Credit is due to the Youtube user Ben Ephla for the static effect used and altered at the end of this video. I will not be profiting off of this video, however will take action if this video is copied or altered for personal use as it is my original work. Sharing is promoted.
- LYRICS -
To sick to go play out/side
Not with the fake. Spout/ing
Fag to my face while
Pads kept in Dolces. Mouths
Spitting sorbet sweet 16's, b-day celebration.
Just more sperm who ran a red at the exit.
Chains the new nooses.
Whips bump same abuse that
Slays Billboard like dragon,
Balls hang like Goku's did.
New Castle cap to basket
Passed Sundays in pews. Sit.
Sobered up by the wafers,
Saviors blood made him puke. Ick.
He forcing the demons out,
Believe he bulimic now?
His finger reach projectile,
The peace never keep it down.
These squares Cheese Nips,
Two W's, one E involved. Tabby
Step up to ring come-up fucks from the semen towel.
Force of Katrina mixed with Luke,
But he lost his head.
Anxious from Mary, but Peter
Keep on unleashing webs.
Keep up with debt like
I'm Usain with two missing legs,
Screaming, "Sharkisha!" beating dead steed
That Tabby's depressed.
Feeling hollow though dapper, dammit.
Shadows fit like wet wool.
Style owned ain't Rabbit's 8 Mile dammit.
In the womb, soaked in pen ink
For 9 months, dammit.
Typed quotes behind mom burping me,
I'm cold, dammit.
Minnesotan shirtless with slurpee,
While snow piles up with who's hurt me
Down my road. It's certain my flow alerting
Foes like I chirped their Nextel.
Dial tones when calling for God's guidance,
Don't pick up like I don't with my folks,
I'm sorry.
So why not pop doze pills?
Hoping Zorro will strike the sheep hopping, still
Lost count like y'all without the shrill
Tick from the metronome. Bitch, drop the quill.
Depression set in, sure, but jotting thoughts with skill.
Blurred vision when liquor hitting my tonsils, chill
Stir another one - Khaled tolerance - vomit, ill
As Doom coughing till mask drop.
Best darkness like these cops who kill.
Thank you. Stay tuned.
