starforts

old man

subatomic potential.. a creative celestial..beast… when I’m old my cain will hit the ground while I feast like lords… seraph insignia on the swords… couple supa cars in garage.. girl still young.. passing my wisdom to the apprentice.. like my son…black Martin Margiela.. rabbit fur coats hung… floors of my castle checkered like cab sides..  spectacles round… with the label of a future brand.. bound.

high atop a mansion naier swag.. ct

high atop a mansion naier swag.. ct

R.I.P. Petrus Daniel Present

Petrus Daniel Present plotted his world…with an old serpent face.. his smile perplexed the white races… mechanical pain he past on to Peter…. He tore apart the heart of his eldest son.. amidst their tools, in the garage hells… this pain flows through my pulses.. ashing his Rothmans cigarettes… Staring up at the buildings they’d erected… Petrus the architect.. Peter the engineer, Fidel the great visionary that motherfuckers fear.. The three Presents bought the silver beast from the beemer mill… now I soar through cape town like a king.. popping ether pills… My grandad taught himself to read and write.. brought his family to the Elsies hood, from the countryside. dispelling demons with mega might… fighting the church’s corruption.. Through his green eyes he could percieve his foes cussing him… in his soul forever wisdom rushing in…

Fidel

—straight

produced by Lance, a soon to be quantum physicist 

Generals

My generals skills lethal as hell… we spliffing as well… the devil was slain by fidel… Im a mage, sorcerer, bard and thief mixed plus Im high in moral… a sage in hilton weiner.. designer shit.. the finest shit… call me your highness… call me the midas… we gliders of the supreme carpets… we the tilers of gods kingdom… we’ll polish it the finest… … our riches are vicious and prestigious.. we envision the legions.. regions I explore are the greenest… we the pristinest… Godly shit u can catch me and Wade in the beemer with the damzils at the back… hues we stack always after the team shit.. Ultra rogues, we’ve won, try and counter me… bitch ur done… 

Abstract

We’re abstract mathematicians.. visions are supreme and the legions we spawn are fiends… my attires pristine… annihilating scenes… and conjuring new ones… we architecting a few suns… weed in my lungs… God’s damzils i win and its fun… no jewels… but microsoft garments I own by the ton… we’ve won… Jesus gives me the strength to venture forth… My troops defending forts

Archaoepteryx

An archaeopteryx soars vivid in my fortress… conceived by the generals of the spirited quarters… beauty connects us, a string of porcelain… hues through the sky we portaging… wisdom is coursing and… silence forging and… we’ll be designing till the portrait’s spent… till the fortunes lent… but the seraphs of old float with us… dispel the dust… pristine art, in this dwelling… smell no lust… its clear, so just… as the infinite rusts… i sit and stare at this ancient bird with no guts… just love that’s robust

Guile

We sly with the style… sense my guile.. u think I’m defiled… I’ve been a sage since a child… now the flavours we pile… I twist brains like an owl… how now missy? Im courtin hot damsels… Like its Sicily… Fidel has won.. victory… Is it me? or are we forging epiphanies… by the structure.. rupturing demons with my bluster… Im Bison mixed with a bit of Ken times that with x-men… these games I invent are tens… and my lens… is the philosophers gem… I design my world, no pen.. So through this art Im expressing truths… of the ancients… the masters of the world… gifted me with patience… infinite is the duration of the beauty.. and its amazing… we liasing with the masons… but im a true builder, stacking variations… Hues bubbling up in my visions like the divinest creations…. I was in pain while my art was latent… Now I’m forging till the day the heavens engulf all nations…  

Aesthetic explorer

Lifted like pterosaurs… thats a metaphor for fly living… divine sinning… see, my mending is winning… and spending for woman….my soul trotting the heavens… my brethren are given Gs… wade in the kraibak with the lex… hot girls all over we text… then we kick it… lifes good.. evil we flicked it awhile ago… now its all about chilling and these smiles we blow…hard work pays off is what my dad taught me… so we hustling courtly… upper tier living.. we’ve aced the levels and reside just below the tripping… the aesthetic explorer, I am on the portraits my soul’s mounting… pushing the crystaline cart… till the day Jesus arives with his art… But for now Im forging my part… heart and brain intertwined thats holistic…. im a mystic of sorts… metaphysics next level, never aim for a blisstrip…. Blusterboy swag we missfits… Cannin barons Im wearing my own label now finally… sick shit…Thanks to the myriads of masters world over… Im gifted.