The Good Writer Only Competes With The Dead

Angel darlings you are so good to me, and believe me i appreciate it. But trust me when i say that imtimacy hasnt been good to me, but i move along like a straight 1940’s huslter, ya feel? Cause i sure dont, imma wait for the right lung to spike me when i come, but these people dont believe me when i say i’ve got freebees to spill, but best return when my spike comes to redeem the fun. Oh yeah, christmas eve in the cellar, yes i don’t capatilize the helter skelter, but the brozne iz felter, so please dont believe the hype; i’m raw and i’m right, that’s the true fight, the gift that’s gifted, half a fifth a jameson and i’m still feelin’ lifted, that’s right, and i’m tight, typical rap shit so you all know i;m in the lime light.