el hombre terraforte 1971

incessantly in love with a ny man

he stays on my brain

footsteps hit the pavement like street sweepers

not too silent, but deadly

he’s a street niggah

timbos on and they make the ground quiver

and when I catch his eye, I feel my

haert shiver

(his eyes) no fear or pain

in gear and candy colored

dripping tunes from sweet berry lips

that make me shudder

hips kick switch, match his move

I wanna feel his groove

there’s never much more to improve

cuz bey got sean but I got the blueprint

olde lovers’ call, just echoes in my head now

not a thing satisfying in their bed

is my scent still in your bed?

Dungeon or shower or wherever the

fuck you give head?

Fuck! You give me head

traces of pleasing inspiration

or dusty, faded polaroids instead

but I’m all digital and original

never something simple

never the fuck some “ting” at all

og myspace gworlie, dripped in NY pearlies

love to see my whole world reflected

in those eyes

and in mine all the time

when I hear those songs

I come alive in the moonlight

well footsteps hit the streets again

and we’re all grim reapers

never your secret keepers (streakers)

rebels, ragers, Black punks’ anger

trail lights carve through the city

sufficiente, independiente, gritty

tqm, grim reapers.