I am that Hellfire & Brimstone that humans heave when they call each other heathens
Word to the heavens you gon' learn this lesson
I am gossip
And you hurl me with hoards of halitosis
Lettin cinders circulate like oozing osmosis while
Bragging & boastin' utilizing gossip like you're holier than god's lips
But then you toss the fire like Ryu in Street Fighter
Lettin' me spew from the top like Bic Lighters
Nah I'm more like...
Isaac & Ishmael ignited with immense amounts of incense...
Stop identifying individuals by their insecurities..
like you idiots don't have impurities
I'm gossip I've been Gum gabbed from gutter mouths full of gingivitis
Like oh such & such had Ignavus Niger Morbisitus
Mixed with Hepatitis.
What in the inferno is Ingavus Niger Morbisitus???
That he say she say relay gets old Cause alternative stories get told
I'm like a torch that scorches tonsils used to console
Those souls that've been tormented by tales
Wait I'm not that frail...
I'm like liquid lava leaving lungs
Or torched timbers on the tips of tongues
I'm actually an over abundance of embers entering your membrane
Telling you ooooh say it again say it again
I'm in barbershops, hair salons, nail salons, online, twitter, Facebook & everywhere your face looks
I'm like that persistent burn on your perm
I'm the reason why that guy is in that urn
Nah, I'm more like
spontaneously combusting on your spine
Culminating heat to enter your mind
Constance is a corny concubine
ain't even consummate her bond
Talkin bout that boy is mine. . .
I'm thinking bout conquering mine
And you're firing more shots than Columbine mixed with oil & pine
With a Flamethrower from an unnamed soldier
I hope you are Watching your mouth
You might spark a Match in your house
I Hope that you Hear I can be as hot as your Secret Admirer
Smokey the bear can't prevent this Forrest Fire
Using me, you produce that fire that burning desire
I'm hot as being on Mercury makin' love to Mariah
Carrying hot Coals; remember all them stories that got told...
Its reckless I can't believe y'all use me in such excess
I'm like poppa bear's porage; sitting inside a garage of public storage being held by the geeky girl that just got gorgeous. . .
Nah I'm gossip I'm more like the floor of the corridor in the core of Satan's Fortress. .
Or the bottom of forklifts, you sure you can afford to support this smokin' four fifth?
I'm like a gun & I use your tongue for ammunition. . .
Never missin, pressin' like pistons..
I'm gossip you better have got it, and I'm hot like the center of hot pockets
You people are pyromaniacs, insane in fact. . .
Play with fire get burned; I hope that lesson gets learned..
Guide that inspired this poem: