Birthright - Illogic

Today has been an obstacle to overcome

The polyrhythmic numb sips statistics

Liquidated over the dry ice to come

Some are truth combined with lies

Equal six million ways to die

And only two reasons not to choose one

The gruesome brilliance

Gripping on to the lifeline of the mic-line

Floodgates open to obscure mind lashing

And plane of exist crashing into this

Everlasting black market

As the grains of time run out of room to fill

I consume the buds that bloom with skill

Then cast the rest on flower beds

Keepin' 'em warm with this blanket of language

Givin' pillows of thoughts to lay they heads

Redundant like season changes, the cycle’s clear

When my ego has landed after fall

I want spring to randomly appear

And the sky to rotate, so the North Star is in the East

With tapestry constellation sheets

Sized so a diamond-studded supernova can’t compete

I’m tired of being discreet with crews

So I sink to a dreamscape with all-out war

Where they use my handprint as tattoos

My birth certificate reads

«One of the illest incarnated, and this baby

On this day, 18th day of nineteen-hundred and eighty

Before walking, plucked the sword from stone

Held in left hand, hoisted over shoulder

Awaiting to grow in to my throne»

Hold my hand and accompany Ill to the edge of demise

But the saner in conjunction

For a vanity holocaust so die

Mannequins stand lost on felt-tips

Eyes cry ink of many hues

Payment of dues is behind schedule

Yet you’re laundry’s impeccable

Skeletons stand neatly in closets veiled by velvet drapery

Broken spirit of the storm capsizes ships and rapes the sea

Well I sit and study

With dim-lit desk lamp and favorite mug

Sipping hazelnut chai but with bare feet on bearskin rug

Watching the sitting fan

Inspiring me to rotate irony

Like nuns trapped in purgatory

Walking in circles of piety

Raising ladles of lamb’s blood to their lips

And allowing its thickness to purify this

Land of derelicts

It would be best if you desist

Sprint into the foxhole;

you’re not whole

No matter, kicks the spiritual things I rock soles/souls?

Floating in glass houses, tossing boulders

The weight of the hate caught you off guard

And collapsed your shoulders

Fragmented pieces of human shrapnel lay across this field of battle

Life gives you a one-way ticket to a herd of cattle

And free passes for grazing

In the passions of conformity

Dormant as I attempt to topple these columns of supporting normalcy

You choose to dwell in a time capsule of yesteryear

Clearly locked in place with combination on fingertips of fear

My birth certificate reads

«One of the illest incarnated, and this baby

On this day, 18th day of nineteen-hundred and eighty

Before walkin', plucked the sword from stone

Held in left hand, hoisted over shoulder

Awaiting to grow in to my throne»