It’s a topsy-turvy world.
You think you have it together.
Soon you will slip.
Your head is your enemy.

And now I can’t write it out
Like I used to.
The meds have made it futile
So looks like I have to break out the
Drawing board.
Find my rhyme again.
Find the time again.
To break out the pen
And stop them in their tracks.
Want to write again
Like a beast
Then put it out on wax
Put em out on blast
Because this be the aftermath
Of what was and what will be.
It’s over, and that’s that.
Cause it stings to be talked down to
However accurate
So I let the bass blare.
Snares hum and go after it.
I’m shaking in my boots.
Think this is the first time I’ve been
Made a fool.
Nope. And I’m no dope, dude.
Can’t fool me twice, play all nice
And talk shit too.
So oh no sick ass beats
Has been sticking in the back of my mind.
Picking at me
Picking at me
Lovely little bitch it is.
So I take it by it’s rawest form.
Look out world it’s manthestorm
The anger and the apathy
Mixed up with the storm
Of casualty.
Look here comes another one.
In the gutter one.
That’s ok with me.
Been doubling down and backing it up
Before you even knew me.
And that’s just the beginning.
The wisdom
The kIngdom
Postmortem and still kicking.
And you can never beat me.
It’s futile
But this is what you made me.
Welcome the unwelcome.
Nice to meet you finally.


Jason Wright is the editor and founder of Oddball Magazine. His column appears weekly.