Long Knives
Long knives see trouble, I think double not subtle
With personal race-class struggle
Pack them away they come back coupled
Counteracting the lifting of metaphoric rubble
Please don't let me stumble on my now developed stubble
My existence a plunder, statistically im dead
The god said there’s power in numbers
On the inner they try to outnumber
In my slumber I wonder amongst thunder on imaginary umber
This conviction shines through like Abraham's devotion
But not like the sun through the old man’s bottled potion
We both stand on concrete but his words are from the ocean
He said we’re stolen and now turned to quotients
Stumbling around trojans atrocious with inflections deemed broken
Then he crumbles across alleyways interwoven
Now to me standing on the corner backdrop a horror
Downstairs empty while upstairs a hoarder
Overseeing house niggas wanting to be an owner
While sober acting older under solar hearing motors
Under the sight of posers and homers
The city’s coma meeting my quota
And now to Oklahoma
Extract’s back but all the palpable in front
As the orbs see what the shell wants
Something of a different sort
Invading anthropomorphic forts
Faster than the filter out the Newport to teleport
Courted from cortisol the free appalls
Making tempers short while the knives stay tall
Treated from good samaritans un-american
Knives want it up in smoke Native American
More deadly than Lincoln’s balcony
Or even Calvary with flesh the only gallery
Hate the fallacy quackery the battery
Keeps the gaze empty like the liquor calories
On my way, eyes aligned to the road’s lines
Sublime all the time as time erodes my tyme-colored time
Looking for signs as I read my sign
Emerging from a cult that tries to put me to a halt
Off similes of salt they claim I assault
But it’ll never be my fault as long as they default
With the drop zone point fiends in between
Machine guillotines off incoming dreams
Teens acting Byzantine that Long Knife scheme

Night of the Long Knives
Night of the Long Knives
Can’t use seven with these tangible fives
With Saxon overdrive, only some can survive
As the blood arrives the organs are deprived
From black bile derived
Black frowns described
With divine design “we” deny
Til me and him dies