Weapon of Choic3

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He keeps a knife in his voicebox and razors at his fingertips
Emblazoned navigation through mental crevices
Leaving your brain dripping wet
And insatiable

He doesn't mind ripping through rhetoric
Of the mundanely pathetic
An unforgiving orator of sorts
Off rhyme and flows intricate
The kind of ex you don't forget
No matter how many upturned glasses you leave strewn across the table

He's a sinner who could even make Satan blush
Revealer of those truths others often fear to touch
Sometimes it can be rough
Gotta pull your hair back just to let him fuck your mind up
'Til you admit it...
You just can't get enough
Because his kind of diction is addictive
Makes you feel dirty for wanting more
It's true, filthy minds love alike..
Find us pining for our vices in the bookstore
Jonesing between the pages
Searching for another murder at the hands of Blad3s

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