choukascripts

[choukascripts]

Streets Boo

Sprirts of powder solution twirling through black shades and white shadows. The snow vibrations building as trucks move salt piles around the cobblestones plowing throw the slush explosive debris churning out into the sewers trickling down into the anal canal.

Gloomy like the subway, the seventh train. A story of a half soul and a pair of lips that don't match. Face the forces of the unknown getting back to a full frontal position in the void. Murmering from the depths arouses the senses as they excite the top vibratory level in the murky puddles where the alabaster separates from the surface and the circling vultures remain unknown to their chemical composition.

A thriller encounter though rather ironic, Mr. Senseless Struggle called it like a fish face with a person and a friendly Zombie who played peekabo.

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Gun Funk Authority

Is it love or is it misery? "A way to describe an articulate force of alternate mojo" says Anonymise. "A psychology matrix where time stands still and grows forward". Think about it like a carwash or a molecule galaxy all the way up your windows. You wouldn't like that, would you?

Timestamp, this is actually significant. Alternate force, finger-spitting thrill. A day of the night, a place fine with a breeze of winter summertime. Escalade smoke, escalate mode like a but why zone throne.

Anonymise inhales, coughs, it gets ugly. He gathers himself with a mild smirk and says "You might question, wonder, and prosper, even question things. Just look at it this way, all fingers, including the thumb, wanted to become the thumb. How many knuckles does he have? Think again, how many knuckles do you really want in your life?

"I, Anonymise, shall remain to find the answer to this paradox anonymous". How dramatic.

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Paradigm Temple

Shift is the mindset of the mindflowing breeze, sky high meditation in the land of Mao, the second time around in the second time around. Adventurous the wise Explorer talks about being odd one out, whom turned out to be the realest one out, its that kinda doubt!

The irony is: The Chang swang by the hourglass, on a crooked rocking chair picked up by the Yin Yang, scaling triplets by the pound layin' low in Shandan. Calling plays and stabbing flowers, call it RXC the Khan.

Drugs, drags, crops the last; copy, paste that's twice a hand. Where does it drop or where does it go, did it crack? I think it's slow. It goes faster on the low but the low is darker than the black sky hole. It's never about the black sky hole, it's always a never when it comes to the black sky hole. It is always about the black nasty sky hole.

Adventurous pre-requisite, skull butterflies like the nomad. I'm going all the way, all the way to paradise, this is too good to be true, my beautiful paradigm temple! I'm at The Garden of Eden, call even Stevens.

愿平安归于您

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Eclipse

The sun rising, on a late night in an early morning. Post the night, dawn the crack of the yawning rooster. "Good wonderful morning to you" he mumbles.

Time lapse the package, year the class, and thou the object. Java, Plat, C++ the grade is. Ancient Greek, Byzantine, and modern Argentine are labels of a power puff and a mild sneeze.

Enchanting was the weight and turned out to be literally, just the weight! Like how modern societies emphasize, literally, just the weight!

BackToBackRexDays is the name, of a new package and a first class new day. Ey.

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Angel but the hailo is black

Snakeheads on autopilot mode, captaining a sinking flight like a yellowish submarine. She took off her heels in preparation for an emergency landing, she wants to slide down to safety but she has no rights. Define safety, define security and define this flight. Where are we heading? Eastbound, Westbound or down South to the crash and burn?

Squared kilos, not the fat type but the Hogwarts prime. He got this and that, and left you nothing but an abandoned park with a bunch of rats. Wealth is mas, like a retired sumo-wrestler with excess fat. Am I the only one on this brand with closed-eyes dreaming through this bad? Rain bullets falling, bombing lives through a roofless roof. Brown bullets falling, filling lives through Choukianity’s rights, chugging the land’s wealth and making it dryer than a virgin asexual pussy.

Writers watch what they write closer than Kim’s video, like they know every bit. They don’t share honest thoughts, call it mental stunt-double. Off he goes around the green pearl, the one where the citizens lay. It is an endless road that leads to nowhere, fasten your seatbelt you’re going behind the moon’s lover.

Joesim bound, to spend some time currency with time givers post the Lord, of course. Highly drifting around, sippin’ on dat breezy, touring on Mia’s paper plane while she’s taking your money. Talking about the next level of a badly built building, one with potential like a four-eyed kid with good math skills but no calculator. Calculate your faith and ask yourself “Do I accept this?”

Buried everything alive, like a potential snakehead. You’ll find it all if you look hard enough.

Hint: Coordinates of the Gonfud.

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Shourmant

Twenty two lives in a mind of an old dad, ten of which were in the form of a human and they were the slowest lifetimes of them all. He has also been an animal, a plant and a joint in the hand of Shourmant.

Reflecting with himself facing a self reflection in his latest old self, reminiscing about his elapsed times in different bodies while simultaneously wondering about the remaining days in his twenty second face, “Am I going to see myself again?” asks the twenty second, “Am I granted a name?”.

Another life is a gift, the chance to look at this world through different eyes, sometimes through the ground as a plant. He has lived lives sometimes for years, days and sometimes just moments until his life was puffed away.

Sometimes Rexes see clearer through their minds while their vision's blurry. Regardless of the life duration, each one was a lifetime.

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Camouflage

Created on March 27th 2009 in China, time stamped 14:22. Ain’t no expiration date on these nuts (keep banging). They were packaged boxed with a bunch of mates and shipped to Ukraine. Ivana, the smoking hot bartender bought the socks from a local clothing distributor. She wore the men’s pair of socks she bought for the first time and traveled to Indonesia via Dubai.

Ivana had to make a quick stop at the restrooms in Dubai and dropped what I call a “camouflage” dump. She says it smells like strawberry bubblegum.

Ivana got deported back to Ukraine and was sued by strawberry bubblegum.

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The Grass With Dew is Wet

Just when Doobie dropped his cutie off to fly high in the sky, he came across a baby head that kept yelling, “Mommy, mommy I’m high, so fly and met a star, her name’s Twinkle. She lured me, screwed me like she was single. My mind just POP, like it was just a pimple. I said Twinkle, Twinkle you’ll leave me, so simple? Yo, fuck you Twinkle, your pussy’s gonna wrinkle”. By the end of the third Twinkle session the Rexmachine was Galaxy bound. 

It was dark, it was freaky, and it was wet! It was even more exciting than Mr. White’s Meth. Two souls later, two fruit skins found cruising through apples and greens. Tasting whatever the fuck there is with Mac and Cheese, like I’ma bring Fedex to Barney’s, like Doobie smoked the purple, nigga, and forgot to sneeze. Cheese.

News broke out on the 26th that he mingled once, Domingo. Santa was in and out of the Latin chocha and the city like a gringo. He slid through a smoke pipe with nothing but a green pipe, caught Doobie and a booty with a fat little doobie. Booty burned the doobie, whipped her ass out, oopsie! Then Doobie whipped his fatty out on her lips like a little doobie. Pass.

Unrewind to four weeks ago, like today in the future. Like today is Saturday, and his bitch’s name is Raspucia, with a CIA in the end. Who the fuck is Langley?

We wonder what you are, Up above the world so high, Like a diamond in the sky.

Doobie Langley.

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The Cream of The Crop

Ditched out to the state of cold blooded murder, one one two punch on the thirty fourth border. Mannequin man out of polaroid order, like when a nigga breaks a vending machine for "one less quarter". Out on the low, hat on the 'fro and I'm the band man running that one man show.

It ain't magical on this road, like Nemo's dad ain't looking for his little bloke, like he bounced way back when Nemo had no stroke, like the butterfly was just an insect and there's no such thing as Diet Coke.

Out in the open desert, looking for diamonds in the sand. That slim chance, like looking for the clitoris of the fat. My partner in crime is just licking the face of the cat like it tastes like cheese and my nigga is the rat.

Unspoken words pointed like I'm the black sheep of the bunch, in the form of manicured nails of the cream of the crop. Like I'm unique in a way like that British plug. Like I wont fit, but hey I got that third nut.

Words, words and words again, crawling upside that bitch's string. Naive is the word I learned when I thought that your mother just liked my blog, like she sent me all these pictures for me to share not bust a nut. Like that bitch just liked the cunt, as a form of speech not like eat the brunch.

Billions of chapters running simultaneously, like this shuffle is the one. Cutoffs from a script like it's time to move on, like when Pumba said "I'm done!", like when Charlie thought he won or when a nigga fucks a bitch and he comes.

Rex, like my rib prime.

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TOO PAC

Six days of polo, fucking with James the grand. Two chambers quite solo, fucking with a cool bandan. Throne hunting for a Rex, Chouk been mad. A quick one way through the backdoor and an out puff pass.

The coolest bitch I know like a pacman pacdamn, like a pacman backpack with a pacman Baghdad. Chef Rexa for a Rex bang bang, bites melt in a mouth, cumbags. Whole foods like a grand Rex God damn. No homo in Soho and the late cake Mag-pack. The red velvet of sea, merdamn.

That’s love for you in a city gone mad.

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Ride

Four by four square meter surface on a little cube under grey skies of a bluffing black or white world. All for one and one for all says the hypocrites of an unforgiving 'every man on his own' men. You are your only best friend is the advice you will get from your only best friend.

The clock is ticking slower by the minute, the days are going by like the turtle who beat the rabbit. You figured people wear masks most of their days only to find out that under each mask is a slicker mask of the naked who is always "honest".

Everybody needs a ride. Everybody, all the time.

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Sudden Strangers

Strange feel of a stranger in his mind with a bunch of strangers strolling down his memories archive. Life in a habitable planet, a big family of souls trapped in different breeds and bodies, each doing its own.

Suddenly it hits his face, swiftly yet strong. No one knows this sensation but the ones who let themselves fall, a bitter delight. And all of a sudden it hits him in the chest, and wakes him up. Like a bucket of ice, his eyes can see it and his mind can sense it. He's in love and now it's out, he breathes it, now he consumes it like it does him.

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F.U.T.W.

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Floating Through

A piece of beauty was on the side of a bed, to wake up, to get it, to getting ahead. Good life yo, fat Makis and bitches they roll up. Look at he, he's dancing, he's dancing with a blunt. I'm smoke free it's Magic, I'm smoke free I am but.. Fuck it we own this, fuck it she o(w)n it.

Thou sneaky lips got me trippin', they got her trippin', they got us trippin' and craving the museroom. We bang-bang we bonin' we bang-bang all mornin'. Lucky strike, night hungry, my breakfast miss Lexus my breakfast dyslexus. Them sneakers he  trapped in, 4:30, we jammin', while floatin' through days like my carpet Aladdin. 4:30, I'm jammin', I'm jammin' my Jasmin.

I roll with my homies, I roll with my homies, I roll with my homies, I roll with my homies.

It's late now, I'm fadin'. My homies, I'm satan. We walk through they hatin', we yo-yo we fakin', we haw-haw we bakin'. I roll with my homies, I roll with my homies. The market for bad bitches, bitches and trouble. Her Deezer, they blastin', she backin' that bottom.

Next moment we're out yo, we walk slow we talk slow, she undress, oh good lawd, we back home we fuck slow. My mojo so dope yo, my mojo so dope yo. Fuck it I own this, fuck it she on it. She uh-uh she moanin', she uh-uh all mornin'.

I roll with my homies, I roll with my homies, I roll with my homies, she roll with my homies.

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Rated WTF

Crips, bloods, and people giving six different types of fucks. Irrational verbs penetrate more than just a sad face or a mind full of dust. Grey skies pouring tears of sorrow, though where they live it’s showering joyful drops, which makes them cheese, upside down.

La vie is their mysterious slut, they say they love her but I know it’s lust. A poke poke pass in a corrupted relay, giving the same outcome over and over. Replay.

Rather, they are to be savored, mouthful by mouthful. Referenced to a dictionary addicted to a late night streetwalker who wants her mouth full.

A single fuck was actually given that day, she liked it.

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Anonymous Reject

A wonderland where life comes right to you. Dreams are to be achieved they said, yet they're still sleeping. Eyes open in the early morning, minds start working late in the night. We are moving so slow, so slow in reverse. Two steps forward, one step back, and another step forward on a long lost track.

Elders know what they know, and we know what they don't. A big fish in a small pond, a fat one that barely moves. It eats all there is, and feeds nonsense to the weak. The little and lively lose the lives inside of them and drown in their own ambitions. I told you so?

The only way to rise up is by holding the bull by the horn, wait no, fuck that. The only way to rise up is to: Wake up.

Cheers.

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Purple Magic

It was not love at first eyeball, it was purple magic. He found himself in a cage staring at beauty, she. Eyes at war against temptation, while an army of butterflies crawled up his stomach and screamed: Attack! But he was helpless.

Time went on a long walk, and bumped into her a few weeks later. Heartbeats are simultaneous at this point, mind so blurry. "Her smile, her style, her spirit, her everything! Can't you see?" It was not a crush, it was a silent sea of emotions, fishfull.

His tongue chasing her ears, while his ears crave her sound. Everything she said made his teeth shine, everything she did..., 

Thousands of minutes later, le phone vibrates. Seconds later, le heart too. Her thumbs poking his eyes ever since, and he couldn't stop staring.

The world became in between of his hands, literally. When they spoke, the whole world stopped. Everything around him disappeared, he was alone, drowning deep into his own pool, his own screen.

A rail ride and an elevator late night had her sweet body within his soul. It was a haze! He couldn't believe his eyes, her beauty is blinding. He took off, he was on a high over his high. He was flying.

Weeks later, he finds himself still flying. Having his breakfast before his sleep, approaching Scandinavia and the only thing he can think about is: Fries.