Mama,am At Your Knees

I know I rapped out at your advice,
Ratting through life in search for the future,
Money and power my helm
That no woman will testify unless she had testes

I've moved from a son to giant only to expire,
All I had gathered now reeled out,
I've had pieces peace.
A pyknic despite the picnics

I followed those from the polar just to end at the pole
I would pray inorder to prey on them
I used to loath but now I loathe

And now I got no grandson to offer,
No wife but Samantha to tease,
All I need is the altar to alter
My presence is a bait,
Hope you'll bate the anger
Yeah the anger for at your knees I'm back,
Not as the angel I was but the demon I've turned to be.


© Expired Giant