Mitochondria

Imma name my baby such. Fuck  your lazy syllables.  Might o  con dreamed   up       a praise name.   You know you ghetto if       and I love it.    Dictionary claims  it’s  the   way  we became human, the jaded program   windows’   automatic roll up,  the soda on the side type DNA lesson made fun on the block  in the sun   with the double dutch champion    and the four wheels   on wide feet   hunting for fat ass that knows how to leap that rope   a joyful scuffle that   almost sounds like the sea having been broken    but it’s just sugar and carbon  stuffed in aluminum  burning your teeth  numb    and fast twitch  muscles   saying  higher   nigga     it’s Sunday        call on the numberless      threads  of your one mazed identity  and swallow them whole   bent  dial tones   then    call my baby, flying