Poetry by Youngblood Elixir
So Eye talk
This the only way I know how to get through,
Eye talk
Seeing 11:11 on the daily while cooking the spirit stew.
Eye talk
It’s the inevitability of isolation and creation,
No more patience with patients, but patience got me through probation.
Yeah, I’m still here, chopping blows at the fear while ho’s in my ear,
Talking shit but they dome piece split when they hear the lyrics spit.
Walking on hollow ground so I run barefoot through the town,
Even walk up in Esoteric societies they like “Give this man a towel.”
Some snore when they hear the gongs; I stay awake, somebody should be the Lighthouse for em.
Leading with no leash, but you can’t breech my peace, capeesh.
Stay centered so long the devils call three seconds,
But they reffing the mechanistic game, when I’m balling in heaven.
And I got crazy handles, fists open or closed,
Drawing hearts or swords either way it’s for code.
Creating top to bottom on this moving train like 80s Graf writers,
You staff writers need to stop being staff riders.
So Eye talk
This the only way I know how to get through
Eye talk
Seeing 11:11 on the daily while cooking the spirit stew.
Eye talk
It’s the inevitability of isolation and creation,
No more patience with patients, but patience got me through probation.
Two years sober with Ferrari type motor,
paid for it in Young Blood
coagulated to an elixir,
Universal One, the only fixer.
It’s been realer than analog running on Ampex,
Tore through the veil, it’s been wilder than Pan sex.
I’m Worthy of 42 for two reasons:
My heart is light as a feather get Thoth on the scroll
Like that Lakers Hall of Famer I got the crazy finger roll.
You can call me Big Game James but this isn’t a Game seven,
This is Seven Steps to Heaven.
Went from The Undiscovered Self to Self Actualization,
Realized the outcome curriculum was all Freud Psych 101, MASTER..BAITING.
So Eye talk
This the only way I know how to get through
Eye talk
Seeing 11:11 on the daily while cooking the spirit stew.
Eye talk
It’s the inevitability of isolation and creation,
No more patience with patients, but patience got me through probation.
Sometimes, coming crass,
But I can’t live my life flatter than Taylor Swift’s ass.
A Catholic told me God laughs so I figured the word “class” is subjective,
He fashioned Job and Solomon, sadistic fetish vs multiple sex partner repetitive.
Life’s a trip just hope that Job is a fable,
Cause I’m working for my seat at the table
The chalice glistening,
Seeing if I’m listening.
Pouring forth with my arms out uniting Heaven and Earth,
Came out the womb they mislabeled the afterbirth.
Cause it was Young and Blood but it wasn’t my representative.
Eye am the Representative of the one, walk with fire never needing a sedative.
Meet me in person you won’t even have to guess,
I rock authentic, you’d think my name was Mitchell and Ness.
Not offering any healing modality,
just heal from the aura of being around me.
The ALL is mind in mine, my cells primed for me to teach
A Qi Gong Don,
opened channels, worked through my routes
Now I run these bloody streets.
So Eye talk
This is the only way I know how to get through
Eye talk
Seeing 11:11 on the daily while cooking the spirit stew
Eye talk
It’s the inevitability of isolation and creation,
No more patience with patients, but patience got me through probation.
And class is out.
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