Like a demon cast from a holy place to the everlasting realm of the abyss, I feel you. From the pit of my stomach I taste you like dry saliva in a drought. Drinking from the well of your parched affections, I’ve been thirsty. If you deny me a third time, cocks are gonna crow!
We are of a generation of transitioning power. Because he who used to lead are stepping backwards and turning into cowards. Baby, all that tofu is messing with your testosterone. In a system of genetically mutated organisms, my brothers are still looking for something “organic”; grass-fed. We are all injected with hormones of sin. My fruits will never be pure enough for your massive farm-like plantation of 18th century cotton pickin’ ideologies. Whipping me into perfect form as if deprivation is a natural state of affairs while you pick and choose your crops and lay the seeds of doubt wherever you go. Well, I’m a learn-ed n***a. Veganism isn’t my thing, because meat and milk are the only ingredients to the recipe of life. So don’t give me that tofu! Clog my arteries and let me die fat and full with life.