Poet's Palaquin

Yeah, I like this one

New York, L.A. Times
They both reverse-transcribed his rhymes
Simultaneously, they tried to get inside his mind
His Amazon catalog, rebuild Babylon
Unroll the master scroll of the surface, he sketched the schematic on
A palanquin carries a poet road-mapping a song
Retracing the steps of a journey never traveled before
And the mandolin was laid across legs, bruised and bandaged
Short supply of First Aid is why his wounds were rancid
A musician played Bobby McFerrin, "Don't Worry, Be Happy"
Gradually, if things get worse, you adapt naturally
Choose your fate, as you near death, and move away from a recuperative state
These pharmaceuticals make them hallucinate
It's nothing new to pay dues: how much you produce today?
You know what they say: "It's business as usual, ok?"
Because of sanctions, they are banned from international bank transfers
They stealth bombed Wakanda after they killed Black Panther
The ancestors were angered
When I heard about it, I was in transit
In a former land, the newsfeed was in a foreign language
The Starlink satellite standard couldn't give me a serious answer
The Sirius satellite system was tampered
My Fintech financer finally translated the transcript
My legs failed me and I fell, leaving my spirit standing
Weeping in sadness, what are the chances?
Looking down at Canibus, through stained Google glasses
Wailing in anguish, it's hard to cope
With something so savage, let alone tragic
The melanated man moans on the Sabbath
While America's streets are swarming with Panzers
Horses, carriages, Canibus hands-free lariats
Control free, energy palanquins
The skies pour liquid acid
Water treatment, tap water is brackish
Tech support taken over by hackers
Don't believe me? Blow me
You repeat me? Better quote me
This is a goodie, but oldie, 5.1 Dolby
The Romans tied every sniveling, son-of-a-Nun moaning
To each cadaver closely
Toxic exposure from bodies decomposing
In the hot sun roasting
Painstakingly and slowly infecting
The flesh of anything living, laying there loathing
Selfishly indulging down a structurally corroding
Path of primroses, with eyes nearly closed
I suppose you can say barely opened
Swaying to and fro, spraying saliva from dead throats
Foaming, praying, karaoke choking
To me, it sound like yodeling, but it is worth noting
There's forbidden, foreboding tongues scolding
Which originally OEM designed by Boeing
Promoting anal swab probing
Exploding from inefficient battery warnings
Do the research, homie, I ain't trolling
My newest CD? Frozen
Your skin? Smoldered
Overheated and swollen, steaming and smoking
And stinking through clothing
I need a moment to go breathe in the open
Fucking rappers got me sicker than COVID
And you know this, still the dopest
Free the people like Moses
Hyper focused with both barrels loaded, 'cause I'm a Poet
And when my palanquin pull up, climb aboard, let's go Bis
Peep the components, Pete Rock, Can-I-Bus bonus
Shoulder to shoulder
In foxhole with speedloaders
Lord Cyborg soldiers
Hot fire like Dylan told ya, nugguh