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Gunz Yo
by Sage Francis

I'm on fire, I'm on fire
Me too, Me too

Gunz yo
I keep one in my pillowcase
It keeps me safe when I sleep
Still I keep awake
What if my dream girl pays a midnight visit
I see the world through the scope but I gain no insight with it
When I get introspective I put the safety on
Make these songs with the biscuits sittin' in my shakey palms
I'm a man now (a real man)
Not the one who went to two colleges groveling over meal plans (nah)
I'm staring at the ceiling fan
All wide-eyed
Amazed by the ways the blades break the silence
I used to be afraid of firin'
The sound was startlin'
But now I'm startin' to hate the quiet moments
Might remind you of a mic like the way I hold it
To the grill
A homophobic rapper
Unaware of the graphic nature of phallic symbols
Tragically ironic (suckin' off each others gats and pistols)
I got more back issues than guns and ammo
'cause my uzi ways a ton
And I never let go of the handle
Hangin' on to mommy's pantleg
Double fisted
Knee deep in shells kickin balistics
This dick! is a detachable penis
An extension of my manhood position like a fetus
An intraveinous hookup feeds bullets to my magazine
Nevermind your bullets
My pistol is a sex machine
Gunz yo (sex ma- sex machine)
(One, two, there you go-a)

Bust it
I got another gun
I keep it in my briefcase
It keeps me safe at my workplace
Cubicle gangster who's in need of his personal space
(Angster of love) Cause I'm able to look girls in their face
Cause I know that only stupid people increase the birth rates
I'm just about dumb enough to hold up a sperm bank
Make my demands and then facilitate fur trades
Empty the bird cage
And release the mermaids
I got a water gun (what)
I keep it in my mouth
It keeps me safe from the things I like to speak about
But words are leakin' out
And all these smiles that are crackle
I'm like damn
I'm on the verge of collapse
There ain't no turnin' back
In fact
I can't hold down my fluids
Can't retract statements
Without water displacement
Flooded the basement
Then sought refuge
Removed my waterproof vest then I kicked off my wet shoes
Made it to dry land pistol in hand
Fistfulls of ammo riding on a camel in the desert sand
Lucid dreams
Are a lot like computer screens
People have pretentios conversations but I shoot the breeze
Blow a hole straight through their long winded theories
Hold my own and make songs for them sing with me
It's the same type of heat that Millie used
To break the ice with Santa Clause when she made him sing the christmas blues
Capitalists strung her up for killin' him
Every manufactured holiday they sacrifice another victim
Before wartime depression sets in
I get to steppin'
And shoe shine my weapon
I'm hemroid
I'm the leader
You're dead like De La
I hold my crotch like a nine milimeter

Gunz yo (nine milimeter)
(I'm on fire, I'm on fire)
(Me too, me too)
(Sex ma- sex machine sex machine)
(One, two, there you go-a)


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Cheche Garcia

on Buckets Of Silence

I never held a funeral for that big part of me that died.
I need to put these thoughts to rest. i need to find a peace of mind.
I need to piece my mind, find a piece of mind to rest in.
need to find someone to confide in, and with the rest i need to start restin'.
needless to say, i couldn't hide.
fifteen grown men shouldn't cry.

Cheche Garcia

on Message Sent

I've got some letters inside of my drawer
that should have been stamped and delivered
One is addressed to my ex
it says I'm the type of kid who can't be lived with
One is addressed to my friends
it says I'm a mess so y'all can't visit
One is addressed to myself
but I don't know what personality or hand to give it