the rage kisses the delinquent on the forehead.

i can taste judgment on your lips
and infidelity on your d.ck ---- shh...

that was totally inappropriate

the voices in my head interrupt--
"everything that's deemed inappropriate always feels better...remember that time when you did it on the kitchen counter?" 
Alright alright!, stop puttin my business in the street.
"Im just saying, that was definitely inappropriate but it felt good, didn't it?"
I hit my head...hard!
"Besides that..."
I plead the fifth...and who decides what's inappropriate anyway?

[[ back to the regularly scheduled program ]] [[ americans dont like interruptions ]]

God forbid that my full lips are worth more than poppin lip gloss
MAC can't hide my filthy words and my RATED R verbs

make up won't make me ...the foundation crumbles under the liner of my mineral oils
and the pigments they say that make my eyes bright only dim my soul
that right there was the deep sh.t, please keep up with me, i promise im worth the chase

i can taste judgment on your lips
and infidelity on your d.ck ---- shh...
...no one's supposed to know

i used to rhyme for the sake of rhythm until i realized my words were your puppets
so i stripped my mind of your opinions and stripped my body of your fingerprints

and now i grind to the baseline
my hips move to the formation of my sentences
and my back bows to the weight of my experience instead of your hands

i've come to realize that you only put your tongue in my mouth to curb my own...
so i'd rather you not kiss me, but rather uplift me
instead of loving me while i lie on my back, adore me standing up
admire my shape from a distance and hear my words in your dreams

visit my nightmares with logic and favors while i toss and turn in the bed you left behind
we are not conscious reflections of one another but rather scars dressed up in mini skirts and wife beaters looking delectable on the platter of insecurity, deceit and my all time favorite...ignorance

come to the ball in your sunday's best -- we won't give a f.ck about monday through saturday
at the end of the night ... right before your run your hand up my thigh, i'll open my mouth...

and let my rage kiss your delinquency on the forehead...
there's nothing more erotic than defiance. call cinderella and tell her...

im the baddest b.tch in town.