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lyrics
Black stripes, yellow stripes
Cut that
White rice, on black earth slides
Dancehall, disco lights
Block the sting, physio dynamite
Blow storms through the mic
Circling flowers when the scent is sweet
Streets are full of reprise
Geometry build in form of honeycombs and underground tunnels to mimic the termites
Dead languages in salty mouths
Or dead seas with living ghosts
They gather in town
Trying to settle the scores
Or heckle the bored
Fuck rhyming my mouth is sore
Double fold tendencies of things growing back to the source