It’s been some time since my last keystroke, I hope I don’t choke on the word-vomit that my thoughts provoke. So yoke the throat of my utensil and you’ll see how my heart spills out the tip of my pencil. It’s suspenseful and will drive you hysterical when my ideas spit onto your theory’s material, leaving a stain so deranged that you’ll rearrange how you feel about my take on the game.
Don’t be a fool and pick up these jewels that I’m putting down,
’cause fate deals the deck and you decide whether to fold or play for the ducats.
So pull up and come through and see how me and mine do.
I got a chance to perform one of my joints while abroad in the UK. It was tremendously extravagant to have been accompanied by my two good mates. This poetry over music thing is starting to grow on me…
“In Chengdu, it’s called
‘Marinating with the Chickens.’ So… ‘Cluck, Cluck’ and go get your wet wipes b*tch!”
– E. Huang
What’s cooking, good looking? From afar you got me shookt, flipped and dipped into a craze of lust. Don’t fuss, and trust that I’m not just looking to bust these * doors… To leave you floored, scorned, n sore. Begging for more, than just muscle spasms. I fathom to give you mental * stimulus… From this rigorous syllabus, you will learn how ridiculously I yearn to see you squirm in love, with me. Persuading thee using this boulder sitting above my shoulders. Heart trying not to smolder and melt at how your bravura is felt. I suppose to slowly disclose how badly I want to rip off your *insecurities… Using my linguistic dexterity, you foresee I wish to kiss your lips. Those between your hypocrisies… I’m being real, no fugazis or forgeries, allow my words to steal and kidnap your feels. The sap leaking out my face-flap is all fact. I seek to hijack the damsel in distress being fed to the wrong mattress. And treat you like a GODDESS because you’re no mistress.