Homing missiles like a hellsent Vore
Spear to throat it’s grizzly gore
I give no fucks like a reformed whore
After two bongs, smoke reefer and all
Poking back baccy aglet as an awl
Pulling up hood Peig beneath a shawl
A whole shoal I divide among hundreds
Feeding thousands, my magics rouse em
I evoke lost folk am trailed by undead
My magic spells turn wedding water red
Cross the lake and my shoes aren’t wet
My mind gets Set on things, brother of Set
Do not let such things your mind upset
But I get obsessed, ain’t leaving Isis yet.
Earphones in when Zarathustra speaks
My weed sack spills in mountain peaks
Hooded shinobi, no ID on me sneak in
When the sack lands I get my beak in
No pictures no porkies peeking
No stories no talkers speaking
Just tweaking, blunt wrappers creaking
Keef tray looks like a bucket of creatine
Only trap house I know Sen’s Fortress
My faultless chasuble signals high office.
Alchemisland 
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