Alchemisland

Drop spot jumps around like fighters in a kung-fu movie

Dropbox Me dropping off pounds and keys in sketchy quays

You’ve got your dogs, don’t ask why you’ve fleas

I’ve got jobs, that’s why your boys optioning me

Friends become opps for a fee

What pops becomes popular but you have to plan how it’s dropped

I’ve got money so old it’s going rotten

Communion money in an endless stocking

Living off grid like William writ in the Leatherstocking Tales

Paro about robbings don’t visit town without greaves and chainmail

Step to me, hear a banshee wailing your name before suntrails mark day

For me, it’s a vocation that’s why I’m so loquacious about crave sating

Khabib on a rager: send location. Hail Satan.

Maps pin or beep coordinates to my pager.