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letra de failure - zo'clock

first verse

im like anini in niniveh sent by god
instead of restoring the hopes of the m-sses i grab
these plastics strike these match sticks upon these gastric
juices im spitin- chopstix tongue twisting
go past a girl with quadruplets on the side walk she is just sixteen
sitting above the gutter, potters throw out waste clay
she makes pay from shea-b-tter paste laid out with a cutter made
outa fibre gl-ss, jute bags, rusted metal strips
the father to her babies, a vagabond with a metal spit
that night when they murdered funsho williams
thats the same house the same night he spilled his seed n got her pregnant
ecstasy in terror mixed feeling- oxymorons
she was on duty -helpless househelp when the -ss-ssins came on call
poor girl she doesnt even know whom their father is
-or is she suppose to evn know who the father is??
a a twist to the story said she had it with the deceased
answers to the grave- to me she says

(chorus)
2nd verse (slim)
) they make you feel like they don’t care about your business
so you try to stay focused tryna find your purpose
but they hope that you don’t make it
even those you trust and your girl you find out that she don’t love you very much
n now you tryna get her love back n-gga she don’t give a sh-t
she probably on the next guy f-ck that n-gga on sp-ce stick
like that n-gga gat two d-cks
we going round the circles and all these wave motion can make a n-gga sea sick-
sh-t-every demon wants a pound of flesh, so i’m standing next to god-
hoping that he saves me from the devil cos he wants to break me with the ladies and the fancy things evrything is gat price- jeesie simps
but i’ll never stop dreaming looking up to god to give my life meaning
cos people say they love you when they don’t understand what love means
but i ‘unt care mehn i gat mad dreams

(chorus)

(third verse)

scratching ma dreadlocks as i write this piece
bursting pus from ma pimples hoping you’ll see this
the crumpled paper i write on gat stains of faeces
this is a thesis of a graduate from a normal to abnormal state
sorry case of a son with no certificate
the ink i write with is bad blood from old injuries
the voice i speak with is croaked from blowing into this-
sticks of firewood, i wish a fire would start
kerosine i shoulda used i was famished n so i drank
– slept rich , woke up a pauper, with a broken saucer u offer me a token thanks sir
with a broken smile i squeeze the polymer between ma palm
those days i normally cross the road when beggars were approaching
but now even c-ckroaches hide in a hole when i approach them
disgusted faces, palms over nostrils when i walk by
running from nothing just gazing the world from the mad man’s eye
if this becomes of me would u speed past me in your car?
we belong in the same family for heaven’s sake ur blood brother

- zoclock

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