True King

People are too worried about what’s relevant

Fearful, when they are taken out of their element

I stomp down on the pavement like an elephant

God is behind me; it’s supremely evident

You won’t scare me, I dare you to try and hit me

You’ll be seeing more white than Whitney

I’m the best ever in this profession

I teach you lessons, my words bestow blessings

Strip poker is full of fraudulent molesters

They want to steal your essence and let drama fester

Media outlets, spit out more propaganda than criminal organizations

Informing the populace that crooks are ruining nations

Who are the real crooks behind the masks?

Swine ethics devouring flasks, murdering in mass

Social engineering forced drugs into particular communities

Moved with impunity, eradicating loving relations and unity

Judgement day is closing in like a sniper

False prophets claim their the truth, but resemble what’s in a diaper

I’m getting nicer like an optimistic, happy person

I’m standing on top, when they close the curtains

I wake up early, constantly working

I’m guaranteed millions, this is certain

The eyes never lie–look deep into them

Most are unconscious zombies who look through them

Why do you think werewolves, vampires and zombies have become a niche?

Dead souls like petty stories that help them eat

I’m a monster, ready to exterminate all the rats and roaches

I’m relaxed off the page, like when you sit in couches

Your composition is a premonition fighting off intuition

I gain recognition because of my inner-vision taking a new position

Hate the king all you want, it’s only making me stronger

Vehemence in seven degrees; my writing is growing fonder

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