“Hard for many to identify with me because what I speak of comes off of my deep, you shallow ends with lives guarded to the teeth is like swimming with piranhas and thinking sharks don’t exist. Verbally castrated and mentally incapacitated your thoughts only amount to the tip of my ice bugging you why I don’t show you how your flavor lacking waters is just a reflection of the salt I spit. Culinary ditch, my feed trough consists of more than one avenue for your temporary and melted ideas of who’s the original one to take a dive and learn to keep. Confused? That serves your rights so when you question why I always walk like I know where I’m going, just know it’s my attention your woman continually seeks. Opened up, aaaaaah, swallow maid, when you learn to speech in open tones then maybe you’ll turn from being the leech. Roots lacking bitch that’s why your rules be smacking against my beach, rejected ties tying together anything just to seem like your seeds are worthy of anything other the fairy tales you feed. Hapless mongrels that never once see that if it’s a single star that has the scrolls of the deep, just shows how helpless you are since land has only sheep. Dead weights in currents that reflect what the moon actually carries so them caps that don’t actually fit in the back of a wall that wants free only fully exposes the fear of the sun’s rays that uncloaks the wool craving cheat. You outside whistling hard trying to make a dog that doesn't bark but really, look at what that has done to your speech. Openly now, even your seeds following everything that all your past attempted to segregate as your mentality has no lesson worthy coz now they all just want to be identified with a street. That’s a neighborhood and since it’s there goes it when one of mine shows up, good, you are unwanted in any way and form of living including a tree. Omnivorous, you lack meats so the star’s consumption on your behalf has the same gluttons waiting for your impotence to seaceed. Pull back your fangs from my thangs before you also lose your woman’s piranha teeth. Suckling on the wrong tit has her thinking she’s brave enough to even muster anything that can compete with the warriors of my deep seats. Take your scaled think and make some pigs correctional before I cover your shallow ends with some much needed algaean deeds."
“Green as far as Land can Sea.”