Cold Turkeys + Sky High, Redeye Hippie & Grim Chiefer

from by Kevin Midas

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Inspiration. Can we create it without those drugs? Probably. But, we still like them though.


Chapter 14 ▲ Cold Turkeys + Sky High, Redeye Hippie, & Grim Chiefer
(Verse 1 – Kevin Midas)
I am drugs. Drugs I am. Sunny songs. Tuscan jams.
Hustle strong; rugged grams. Pockets thick, stuffed with jam.
Bad potato; troubled yam. Angry Beavers. Double dam.
Heart tied down, it’s so Siam. Girl, I want you like Uncle Sam.
Islamaphobe. Gotta go so ham! Martin mode: Get to steppin’ Pam.
Hologram. El just bailed! All we see is empty Mass.
Ennegram; Nine in class. Fantasize like soon Kyuu.
Girls Generation, Baby Boom. New World ambition; Luffy’s crew.
Edenic flow, Eve’s bayou. Ill poems, achoo haiku.
Eschew taboo. IQ Guru. Move you, voodoo.
Shampoo Manchuu. Spew true Kung Fu.
Enemies skidoo. One flew over, so cuckoo.
Stoned imagination. It’s the flightless prince, like Ewe Cailou.

(Bridge – Kevin Midas.)
Lung pumping tundra. Alaskan miasma. (Weed)
Bulma made supper? Husky capsules. (Pills)
Sipping on spirits. Mana vampers. (Liquor)
Gasoline skillets. Eye on, plasma. (Heroin)
Need drugs for this bonanza. Bring ‘em all, it doesn’t matter.
Got courage in the standards. All I fear is birds with Santa.
Aum. I’m afraid of Cold Turkeys.
I’m afraid of Cold Turkeys.

(Verse 2 – Sky High)
Flip that work like reciprocals. Smoke that weed like it’s bar-be-que.
Adderall inside of lean mixed with red bull.
Make you think you had wings, smoking bird food.
Uh uh. Get it together. (Come on now). Don’t be afraid of the high.
Cause it’s only getting better. Girl, you ain’t gotta lie.
You know you like this feeling. Ya mind telling you to stop.
But, ya body so willing. God, damn it!
I need my fix. Who got it? Who has it?
Addicted to that green. That’s my cannabis and cash bitch.
Mary you my baby, and you smoking like a dragon.
Living in the streets turn a good nigga bad quick.
Living in the present. Future zooming right past you.
Fucking with these drugs, till a high nigga fly the coop.
Bad day, good dank. Bad bitch, coming through.
Bad day, good dank. Bad bitch, coming through.

(Verse 3 – Redeye Hippie)
Oh, yeah. It’s Redeye Hippie. Pack of swishers with me.
Break it down. Blow the dust. Yeah, nigga. In Kush I trust.
Zannie got me wobbling. It’s getting hard to stand up.
And don’t answer his call girl. That’ll mess my plans up.
Took her to Erotica. Guess, I had that e-pill.
Yeah, baby everything was nice. But, naw, naw you can’t stay the night.
And since that pussy talk smack, always expect a call-back.
Music is my main lady. Sex my favorite drug baby.

(Verse 4 – Grim Chiefer)
Bitch, I’m screaming I’m back. Rolling up a blunt, with a lighter on my lap.
This rap shit… it’s just my craft. Fly around me? Nigga, get zapped.
Boy, get punked. Like Daft. Beam on the gun. Get laser tagged.
I’m on the plane. Nigga, no drag. Dick in her throat. Nigga, no gag.
I take her down like a notepad. I take you down like a toe tag.
Too many guns, I’ma need mo’ mags. Too many goons, I’ma need mo’ masks.


from Drafted In Limbo, released February 1, 2016



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Kevin Midas Detroit, Michigan

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