That understanding power can beat you. You have it in your head and it will manifest right in front of your third. You start doing trading with colored people without the realization of their expiration date and get caught up in their current of air like bam! Yo the knowledge degree born ain't no peace among 'em the born degree say you don't love'em regardless to how long they study, knowledge cipher tell you they weak and wicked, power degree tell you they deceive so you will believe in him, build degree born they got filthy affairs and you find yourself caught up in their plastic smiles. Degrees willl rock you harder than Tyson in his prime. For real! Look I'm not playing, it be nuances to the nurses law. What is his ownself? Look inside yourself and you'll peep your own pins. They deep ain't they? You'll realize how deep the minute you fall victim to destroy evil civilization. I've fell victim before and still be falling like its ice on the ground sometime, yelp, me believe it or not! Believing in white folks even unbeknowst to me(and I'm
God). Knowledge wisdom cipher sits like a gaurdian, but those ways and actions of a snake of the grafted type get through from time to time and the next thing you know you believing in him and you don't even know it. It be little things, not even big things. Me I gotz to have a Hummer(H2), but peep, don't know original man make a Hummer and guess what? I'm believing in him. The reality of shit is that Saudis is pimping the hell out the color man and the color man got more guns. Imagine that? I ain't pimping nuffin but knowledge wisdom cipher, well I'm not pimping it, I just know it and it's all I got in the wilderness, along with knowledge I'm God and it ain't no mystery God! Little good is does me-psyche, I'm playing-it do me plenty good out here. I couldn't imagine not having the knowledge of who I am truly. In the wilderness naked with nuffin but my big ass penis flopping in the wind(big to me at least) and 120. But on the real, shit gettin mad crazy, zig zag zig coming from everywhere. Black Grandmothers are notorious for saying, "Baby we in the last days and times" and the next thing you know you still standing wisdom cipher years from now and white people got another sit com and ain't expired yet. Well I guess expiration is a slow process, kind of like milk becoming sour. Ever smell milk before you pour it in the frosted flakes-and your not quite sure whether its sour or fresh? Well I guess thats how colored people get down-they close to expiring but not all the way and the next thing you know you got a mouth full of frosted flakes and some milk that your not quite sure if its sour or not. Yelp thats it-sour milk. That what the colored man is: milk that might be sour. Well the Saudis is proven that his milk is more spoiled than a Simmons brat and Uncle Abdul, not Uncle Rus or Uncle Sam is raising the price of crude oil like a giraff's ass. Four thousand American soldiers dead for a three dollar and fifty cent gallon of gas to put in my Explorer. When shit do fully expire and the Milk is completely displeasing to sense of smell and the Simmons brats completely loose their minds like Dana, Todd and Gary on Different strokes, let it be noted that little Old Elijah and high yellow ass Fard said Expiration is 1914. Ever seen an over dramatic death in a Hollywood flick, and how it seems like it takes a hundred years for the soldier to die? well that's the colored man, an over dramatic death. A death scene that seems as if it won't end. That's the reality of the expiration date of the devil civilization. Die mother fucker die! Well when they die, the Saudis will gladly take the place of the colored man and become the new devil in waiting-charging Emblem twenty thousand dollars a gallon to put a gallon of gas in his dumb ass Hummer. Emblem loves the Saudis because they give him nothing. I got to tell myself to wake the fuck up sometime. Maybe I could design my own Hummer and shape it like Fredrick Douglas's uncombed Afro. Yeah I could! Maybe.
Friday, March 28, 2008
A Chef, An Old General and A Poker Game
My Enlightener is definitely a chef of the highest order. He gave me knowledge wisdom cipher and I ate it up. Nearly knowledge born years have past since the meal and I'm still digesting. He told me to protect every word as if it was a child, and I have! Knowledge wisdom cipher echoes in my third and the understanding of it and its meaning becomes highly relevant to what I'm dealing with daily. The older I got with it in me, the more personal it has become. Christians say Jesus Christ is their personal Lord and Savior: I can relate to that-the 'personal' part at least. Knowledge wisdom cipher has become personal; not 'national. I've never been a national character in NGE so to speak, b.u.t. knowledge wisdom cipher has always remained deadly sharp in my head and heart. I still have the phone number of the girl I had a crush on in the build grade in my third, so like West Indian Archie I never slip on an actual fact, an 'of', a 'the', or anything! Good memory I guess, but more than memory of knowledge wisdom cipher the nuances of meanings started to become clearer(My meaning is my meaning not necessarily yours) as I walked into the inclimate weather of my two forty! All kinds of rain, hail, snow and Earthquakes started the minute I completed the three billion mile plus journey to Pluto from who's the Original. That shit ran like a culture dimensional video game-dragons, monsters, snakes, lions, tigers and bears oh my! They came out the woodworks in full force and all I had was this build pointed sword to cut through the bullshit! The war stories read like that of an Old General on his death bed(I'm being melodramatic) but the 'Then why did God make devil?'- degree went into overdrive on my ass and the shit still on turbo. 'Don't stop swinging that sword' is my mantra. I will give all I have and all with in my power to catch my breath but two forty intense yo! I've accepted it(the intensity of it all)and this fight till no ending is just part of who I am. So knowledge wisdom cipher is a weapon for me not to hurt anyone but to defend myself against the beast of the wilderness of motherfuckin North America. Nurses stand in line for my ass, always have. Doctors got me on a hit list, creamtors kindle the flame as we speak, and the wild beast is salivating and roars "Eat that Nigga". I'm still here, got some chunks missing from my ass, got some holes in my head but I'm still standing like a glorious black baby running for my life in the Jungle of Patmos, with a pamper on. Understanding power have me bugging cause it said that movafucka was done in knowledge born knowledge culture, and I guess he was but could you imagine being in this bitch before the expiration date? Goddamn! Movafuckuz was hanging niggaz, I mean they still are but back then they actually hung a nigga on some Saddam shit. Whippings wasn't shit, movafucka Master whip your ass because he wasn't 'hung'(the other 'hung'). Ass whippings cause you packing. The torture and the mutilation was on some wholesale shit, they raped blackgirls wholesale, killed because the breeze was blowing in a way that they didn't like, they played poker and raised their bets with families of slaves as if they were poker chips while siping whiskey and smoking cigars. The thought of pre expiration date two forty can make me damn near distill-I got a vivid imagination like that. Can you imagine a yellowed teeth overseer in the field who fancied your eight year old daughter. To think that because some so called laws have went into effect that things have changed is naive indeed. I guess with all my sword swinging I got it pretty good after all.
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