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letra de espeon's interlude - qdeevee

iblis hating my voice
is it really that whack?
do it twist you up inside
the way you just did my back?
torture tears as a muse
this why i never make music
beating you, but i get beat up
why’s that sh-t so confusing?
if you not here to hear me
committing an oath to a silence
never allowed to publish
sometimes i wish myself violent
low stoop scores
for this bengali-paki wh0re
tryna find that good ‘indian’ p-ssy
hmm……
no kinda racism in coloured lore?
astro pens never break
ink only burstin’ through my doors
wallahi wallahi
never instigatin’
i bank each and every last body
first place to the opеn
last cyph alone, after evil karatе
‘consensual bdsm’
the legal lingo game turn a lil hottie
rape in the p-rnhub search
the ip cop’s gonna need hot toddy
don’t hate the gameboy, please
i’m the beam me up, no shottie
tampons in the urinals
that’s my charmin’ with a lil scottie
a ’97 stripped-down, locked-at-home shawty
philosopher stone powerin’ cellular phones
leaf swordsman, make it drip with the 40
postal service for the zaa
pick it up from governor kathy
resident of the 93rd block
dora and boots go summon the mappy
explorers and some conquistadors
college curriculum a little too mathy
overriding slave dominions
the reparations from god are endless
if they do you, how they did my arm
you’ll regret tryna make me pen-less
divorcing my siblings tonight for good
murdering my mental parents
666’s no devil day
fake mythicals stay weak to flash cannons
stop howling to the sun, la loba
the fico credit’s no real panic
racial war in our 5-borough pact
bk’s got russian spies hyper-tanning
forget the -movs, n -tovs, n -zovs
illiterate scams get caught stan-ing
cash-only ‘hemp store’ playin’ dirty
1 gallon jar of shake ‘only thc’?
60 for an eighth of my mixed plat, 30?
think i’d leave the crib, left hand empty
securing the bag, takes a lil flirty
winking at the training check like
business casual flow & a dab of nerdy
extra prep if you hit it t plus 1
dipped the trap attic at 6:30
the 169th street station sass
plish-plash lies force a rolled-up birdy
got the mta b-tch now big-time alerty
at least the q line got blessed
by the f tracks’ finesse
you owe me a fat one, crook-lyn
coverin’ your houston ass got me hurty
appreciate your bizarre gestures, though
next time please wipe the browser only
paranoid fool, but to me, he’s never lyin’
mufasa’s little simba with his nala
pooh’s got tigger at the met gala
i never make mistakes
only up-stakes when you finally holla
tell me you love me, my love
i know you missing your lady balla
never tell me why
just immediate ‘i’m sorry, your honor’
the sari seasons not for me
i’m still that insecure, crewneck fall-er
that neck-a-sheep bull
on that audio-jack-ass caller
i hear a baby goat when in horror
only our realest bro would know
i take respect over memory
every moment of the hour
i told you i take you off for your safety
got extra lighters for your shiesty
roll it, then light it, then hide it
i keep secret pocket access for the kindest
the tallest in the room might be a giant
but the leeches stay low, outside
coke-head, parasitic ‘vibing’
i match your energy, real good
american football drills now reviving
retracted for that unbiased look
nothing to do with your timing
if you seen the way i cried for you
you’d know we’re 3/8s-part-siblings
my end-of-the-stick, failed dibbing
internet sl-t’s impossible
this whole sh-ts just coding & fibbing
the gems concealed, all free-will
electronic s-x beats
wordsmith notarizing new bills
marriage hymns this light-year
5280 feet ain’t a i-am-him, no way
the real bengyal bae, forever stays
woulda never rode no covid wave
hit the line, don’t act such a stranger
i always gotchu covered
like that cereal box of goodies
i’m your sister under god
praying your soul disbelieves in danger
take the bed, i’ll take the floor
i grew up this lameass loser, anyway
never smoke an oppressors’ jay
i’ll roll you up bud n breakfast
that’s a million times, for you, for free
q got the dirty-work under wraps
switched the upper southside to papers
no more cigarette b-tts
zig-zaggin’ in the backwood guts
be quick to grab the grabba
or the tips i scrolled last night
worst case, no hands, never escalate
step to it here, inside the gate
i be in & out, just wait

- qdeevee

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