11/25 tryptophan trip with fam

We travelled hundreds of miles by plane to visit fam in a distant land, thanksgiving brings out the best in this recovering Christian man/ listen man, ill take you back the inside track on a tradition, for a couple years running we'd stay at my sister's for thanksgiving/ see, me I like to cook, I find the process quite relaxing, boombox bumpin Michael Jackson, kitchen knives ignite the passion/ dicing slicing action in a fraction of the time, remove the turkey from the brine, generously coat with thyme/ oh it's time to stuff with stuffing, stuff that stuff right in the oven, get back to the pickup game of football cuz we're down seven to nothing/ puffin chron when mom ain't lookin, drinking beer while dinner's cookin, watching hours pass by but it seems this year we're mistooken/ or mistaken, I ain't fakin went to check progress we're makin, peep the turkey time to baste it, maybe pull a piece off and taste it/ then "oh shit!" I must be wasted, how could things have gone so fuckin wrong? Spent an entire day cooking and noone turned the oven on... Damn. 

11/24 the bad...

Then there's bad. Bad is a word that was flipped so we could strike back, plus the name of the third solo release by mike jack/ bad is a blow to the beak with a spike bat, or learning that the mc of your favorite song didn't write that/ bad is a poorly timed hi-hat or a weak kick, or when Victoria won't let you in on her little secret/ bad is when your dime turns out to be a freak bitch, looking for every Tom dick and Harry to sleep with/ peep this, bad's the state of mind when you can't see the silver line, choke and can't spit a rhyme, punishment don't fit the crime/ in a different time bad was facing a recession, I say bad is being lied to to and we still ain't learned the lesson/ bad's a case of coke depression dropping the blunt during a session, thinking this day was bad but more worried 'bout the next one/ bad is always second guessing an not trusting your own gut,  blamed for crimes you ain't commit but the culprit won't own up/ bad is bourbon thrown up, wifing a known slut, crooked cops with blind eyes for some cash and a do-nut/ oh shucks! 

11/23 slept. tropic days of thunder...

I'm a- topic hunter that will bring the tropic thunder, make mc's stop and wonder why I'm on top they're often under/
spit a dropkick hop then punch ya lyrics sharp enough to puncture, you're microscopic not enough to stop this hotness the prophet punk'd ya/
better off in a bunker hunkered down noone around, the music'll dull the sound, kick it over mull around/
I'll leave your skull in ground, dumb it down so masses get it, we massive so forgettit flag half masted blast beheaded/
get to mass the master's said it, I'll outlast surpass pathetic, call the medics and ambulance, these clowns don't stand a chance/
all they do is chant and dance, wear big pants and try to act hard, while I'm so potent should be glass jarred for runnin laps around em: NASCAR.