The NATION of Crypt, Always to Have A Script

Night walking and talking in zombie haze. I emancipate my crew today. A twist of the neck, not the stun of a gun, as kids they were just having fun. I meet and great and see no deceit. Revelry spins in a twist of time. I pull them through as I start to rhyme. Those death harbingers who share a blue obsession and mommy degree infinity. I cut the umbilical cord today and say that they were all whores and liars, working with a man on a leash, betraying with police. I am me. I cut a little BLOOD to find the CRYPT to write all the scripts. MARLIN, you are master of coma disaster. HCMC TV, you and me, watching COMA (new movie) on TV. We speak of the years we were dead, everyone around us so fucked in the head. The phone number you passed to me never worked, and you jerked, but know that it happens to me all of the time. Do the math and come meet me down the street. No more oxygen tank, but maybe a rose. Bring gypsies through as you strike a pose. Manage the stress well. I buy you a CHOCOLATE SHAKE as the earth we do quake. Cliff combine with Wink and let his lieutenant through. You are the mighties, the BIRDS of war. Time to bombard the devils beneath to make it so they cannot walk the streets. All the love in the world, Hope. Release the dogs, Snoop. You are too old to lead.