Crazed2APoint ENIGMA WRAPPED IN FOOLISHNESS's blog: "Crazed Times"

The Shining™ - Brass Knuckle Poets Society said:
Brass Knuckles shine like platinum: the epi-tome, handsome with a microphone. You cowards are cro-magnon, counterfits, like lead dipped in chrome, mellowdramatic, fairy tail gnomes. The Three Kings lift heavy weight and smash on the drones.

The Shining™ - Brass Knuckle Poets Society said:
BRASS KNUCKLES TO THE DOME, you can phone a friend or phone home, but that won't save you from a silver bullet in the zone. Me and my folks smoke killa' zones, and set fire to these sterile-ass clones. Cat's throw books, but I slap 'em wit' a tome. Kung-fu-spiritual, like Bruce Leroy, when I rome. Heavy liftin', heavy spittin' from heavy chromosomes. I'd hate to meet me in a dark alley, under full moon, alone. To rally me, myself and I'm known, to thump a scally-wag, with heavy hands like "tally ho!"

Crazed2APoint... I'M AN ENIGMA WRAPPED IN FOOLISHNESS said:
my wit is sharp enough to cut down the middle of a strand of hair, hella accurate could shoot carpet fibers floating in mid air, don't you dare step up to the plate you do not belong there, treat your head like a ball and smash it out of here, hit it so far that it punches a hole in the ozone layer... i walk around without a care but i'm far from oblivious, to oblivion and beyond turning enemies bodies to dust... ashes to ashes and an urn for your burned remains, it's all on me but i never wear the stains... you could never come equipped with enough to be more than a blip on the radar, cement shoes makes it definite that you can only be contacted by sonar, you can have the biggest dreams in the world by far, but i'll crush them and make you feel worthless like a string less guitar... to add more to the subject of what people who talk out they asses are worth, my birth was a blessing, your birth was a curse, even the powers of opposite day couldn't turn that reverse... i'm on another level, pedestal where only i can stand, i'm the pinnacle while you're about as handy as a pianist with no hands... or a penis with no balls, a vagina with no walls, a heart with no blood pumping is the main source of your downfalls... you wanna talk big and bad but you know that you're lyin, i went to the land of oz just to be a prick and scare the lion... and i also stole the heart from the tin man, i lack care, the exact reason you don't wanna fuck with me man, dead men tell no lies so look at this killin as me making you honest again.

The Shining™ - Brass Knuckle Poets Society said:
My ism's like a Jason blade, polychromatic like the prism set aside for that special day, sharp enough to cut the light and send it on its way. I make a whirl pool look friendly, how I tread water and wade. The pinnacle, like the Ace of Spade, like the Man you kneel before in the nave. Keep me out the pen, unless you like gettin' played. I'll neuter these killa's and make a pit-bull look bitch-made. I'll reiterate. Keep me out the pen, unless you like playin' hot potato with a hand-grenade. I'm the set of eyes that hold your gaze from inside the dark cave. You could enter, but it's a mistake, like driving drunk down a one-way, playing Russian Roulette with your fate, like trusting the pilot who fucked off the plane, told you to kiss your lap, as he told the radio, "may-day." I look at Death and wave, flip him off, and sick him on you, like the fast ball that misses home plate. I sharpen my canines and salivate, 'cause I'm hungry, like I didn't eat today. I'm not from California, I'm a trinity from the Bay - a third bear, a third man and a third insane. I think I'm okay. I like the feel of pain. I thought Hannibal was a genius, and I can relate, because I own a blood-lust, like a cannibal, that I don't know I how to sate. I Shine, like a door getting met with an axe blade, a blood-shot eyeball, and a voice that you here say, "Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeere's Mr. O'Shaughnessay!!"

Crazed2APoint... I'M AN ENIGMA WRAPPED IN FOOLISHNESS said:
the preciseness, in which i write this, makes me truly priceless, my rhymes are evil and god sent me a fan sign sayin i'm one of his vices.... my mind skitz as people act so frantic, such a panic ensues as soon as my punch is landed... can barely stand it, stuck in my own mind stranded, killed everyone on Gilligan's island that had crash landed... that's the psycho in me, mouth fully automatic not semi, treat jock riders like demons yelling out depart from me... hold exorcisms that go more wrong than linda blair's, turn your head backwards and bend ya back until your face is in your derriere... rivals get disemboweled in my search for the belly of the beast, you're not a feast, if you talk shit please get your weight up at least... hate the things you say, wish you weren't here today, like when i wake up drunk in bed with your mom and wish her and my hangover would go away... you don't make sense, like a mute goin into a confessional to confess some sins, my greatest sin is that i forever offend, i'm anti social and i'll bitchslap everyone at your family gatherins... slap em so hard that it leaves they faces with dents, red slap marks so visible you can see my fingerprints... so please keep it movin, i'm never in a mood to be soothin, fuck you is the kind of mood i'm in, commit crimes so heinous it baffles the heart of charles manson, hold your family for ransom and feel awkward cus i gotta see ya mom again, hi mr's cockface i meant to call ya but couldn't remember the numbers to be dialin, yeah i'm wildin, i need a lil self confinement, solitary with my voices again, don't need prison, jus need to stab you and use your blood as ink for my pen when i'm writin... so in closing, learn from your mistakes and maybe you'll survive, cus trust i'll leave you with emotional scars that last longer than rapsnap's been alive