It’s like antisocial
hazardous portion organically nourished couraged to flourish and
muses often
Lunged nicotine dream missing languorous
Caution we proclaim until brain’s off like Sagittarius
Shield. Yield to the eye mescaline killer veals
Stonegates marching moodily until plural styles immaculated
beautifully.
Rudely awoke.
Sing rumble blue conglomerates sucking up lung while brushing
parasitic critics to my left side.
I test glide kamikaze crashed to thoughtless on my preface.
The therapeutic unit recommended.
Now slow-mo Quasimotos teeter on ringleader status while I spit
satellite photos while teetering on the stratus.
Sleepwalking the atlas after none. Trudge and nudge my
ninety-nine octane brain to one-oh-one.
Run to organize my mood like quarterize my wound and climb
up.
Lovely samaritans line up like bar codes for a fraction of my
factions.
The hollow of his hand beholds contraptions via
Amplified files collapsed in cacophonic conquest. My specs
up.
More postille and docile insubordinance your phylum.
For a dotta asylum swarmed your coordinates. Rush.
Must not sleep, must warn others.
I’ll tourniquet your turbulence then trample on your
stutters.
If I could displace every vagrant in America with traces of my
character the Earth would be a more pitiful habitat.
With infinite acres of auto-cry eight can aid ya. Swung open the
nomenclature to obscure wool-lock trickery. Pure
Has not got tossed back by liquors supporting patience, working
knuckles for audio duplication.
That’s like fiending for a purpose.
[looped sample]
Aesop Rock, prototype Robocop
Jabberwocky rocking on the highest hilltop.
I possess two siamese styles that’s like connected at the mic
hollering monstrous.
Poly-tech impeded indidgy progress, deaf,
Swept off your meridian. It’s operation Start With a Slummy
Raped Your Milk and Honey.
Can I like, conjure up like all potent components of like,
Middle siblings scribbling on his lonesome like,
Hit him with my ninety-nine metal plated mics upon the wall,
take them down, pass them round, rock them all. Bust it.
I’m forever building my City of Lost Children ripping rungs off
your ladder at a
Sardonic smirk. Ebonics lurking where the crop circles got
stamped out from the rain dance.
Tsunami rain blast tipped off like origami frames and sloppy
braincasted class-a-piece mastered to capture your flag then
flutter.
While slaves defy water, start roofing paper bags.
The magic-maker dragging devils to add triple sixes melted
triple glitches on your console.
I calibrate my mics prior to claim and shit is rockable.
Unlock and pull a backdoor for the bounce.
While cannily panicking was the average. I broadcast modern
boredom mesozoic poetry pupils.
Caught up in scruples from the inimical nature of my program.
Elegant, the overcast password cursed on a tactless bastard,
catatonic until personal practice mastered.
Send "Antisocial" Ringtone to your Cell 
