Unt. 8

It is the devil in she, the one that makes you teased, all hood grown organically, she sweeps you off your feet.. Down low, I call her 1 and 2 the 3.. Cuz she connects like dominoe's whichever way she please.. Got bones in her yard, it's the October fallin' breeze.. No clones can be starred, she got her own disease, it's called originality, thus other's can be discard.. Do not duplicate, I say it unto thee.. One in a trillion, I call it how I see.. Make moves and depart, she's smooth and I am art.. The flow to free is one too soon to be, I got rules to mark, they go sideways, left and down.. Horizontally up is the stride I choose my grounds, cuz my head tilts everytime I see you frown, which is rarely cuz the up is always down..