RebelRabble's Flow

An open letter to anyone who’s ever sold out what they really stand for.

It’s a spiritual calamity
centre of the flying V
plucked down by gravity
sucked into the rabbit hole like Alice see
how could ya fuck over destiny?
what a fallacy u turned out to be
excuse the negativity
but ya sold out your soul
“poster child for hypocrisy”

can I take ur picture please?
say cheese…see!
smile hollow, speckled cavities
black eyes of a pekingnese

dark and rotten
much like a Rorschach blot n
monotony got ya itchy in ur cotton socks

[break it down]

the clock tick-tocks
reflection mocks
had a treasure trove now it’s full of rocks

thieves

they be pickin at ur locks
morn to Equinox
but nothin left to rob
so they clobber ya

flat as a flip flop
pounded like a pork chop
nothin’ left to top
when the grim reeper knocks

-RebelRabble’s Verbal Flow