49er

I'm a forty niner,
Not pigskin and grid iron but,
Pick axe and dungarees searching for,
Praying for,
Yearning for,
Golden bars of poetry and verse.
Sifting through your bullshit bravado,
Say-ying your heart-less rhymes in sta-cca-to
No dough rays me fa prose or cheap flows.
Those keep my heart closed from these hoes.
Pimps, tricking their treasure for leisure,
Suited for suicide, burlap guillotine tie
With kerosene combed hair
Dripping wet and trailing behind you from show to show.
You are fool's folly, dumby rock, the piss covered salt stone,
Alchemists who are trained to feign the philosopher's,
Stone cold frauds!
I am a forty niner.
In search wealth and a better life,
So I sacrifice my soul to rhythm of hymns,
Humming Tao tones,
Which sound like dial tones.
Operator, is there a long distance number for me to reach Dilla on.
Can I call collect to Scott La Rock cause the bridge is out.
I'm out of range, can you please give me the exchange to Isaac Hayes suite on the seventh tear of heaven.
Cause to get through one more day of this foolishness I need healing from Black Moses.
I'm loosing it!
Slipping on this phone trying dial heaven from earth,
Thinking I could piggy back my signal from from a satelite I confused for angel's wings.
I am a forty niner!
I am the listener of lies,
The meditator of myths,
That scribed the hieroglyphs on sandstone and pressed them on the foreheads of kings till they became legend.
I am legendary!
I am now!
I am this very moment mounted on the precipice of your earlobe.
Waiting to be blown full force into your eardrum by sound of my voice.
The vocal hurricane which you had more than enough time to avoid,
But is so strong you were bludgeoned by pieces of levy...
Wait.
That's your ignorance caving in from all my mining...
Burrowing through your bones till hollow.
Hollowing out your heart and I borrow,
From my well to refill you inspiration...
So you can have your own water to sift through the bullshit...
I am a forty niner...
I mine souls to find gold so bright and bold it blinds the sun.
I am forty niner, from Monday to Friday,
Twenty four sets of eyes gaze upon me as I,
Try my damnedest to find gold so bright it blinds the sun within them.
Except for the one whose twin...was ripped out by a gun.
Leaving one.
I am a forty niner!