Eyeball roar / settled old score / dead, eagerly buried Beatnik boy from the borrowed Heights

Mississippi’s been trippin’ itself out upon upside-down nigga-talk cocktail shakes and its Statewide stats are startin’ to upset the over-current apple-cart which still lives deceptively within a once-upon-a-serene existence

All black and no goin’ back to basics again. They say …

… Until, that is, they make your dinner via your home-stretch kitchenette with fishnets near Afro-static hair

No more, far less – and “li’l Miss Ivory Coast” – really!?! She’s from just down the street!! – hosts the toast to all of these other half-plastered white-dollar aficionados, people with nothin’ but complete whiplash midst vitriol tongue / motherfucking uncouth people that need the ‘g’ – to gee ’em on up again

To realise somethin’ motherfuckinG real

A tasty blast of reasonable passion, please