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DISCLAIMER

The Collective: Addictry

Khali Raymond


No part of this eBook may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the author. Suggestive and graphic material is presented in this novel. Discretion is advised.


Copyright ©2017 YTER/x Surreal Dreamz Inc. All rights reserved.

First Edition, 2017


This book is for all the people out there with a drug or alcohol addiction.

I just want you to know,

There’s help out there.

There’s still hope.

Never lose sight,

Of your goal.

I wouldn’t say these are my experiences in this book.

Because, the only thing I ever did so far was

Get drunk and get high off weed.

I may not know the pain that you may feel,

Or what you may do to mask it.

But, I’m using this medium

To bring awareness to the problem we have here.

Hence why this is called

Addictry.


Drunk in Molly

I arrived to the crib after a long day in the jungle.

I have a lot of dirt that not even a sponge can clean.

I’m under so many arms that don’t even wave.

I’m around people who’ll hate you for coming up,

but will love you for being down.

I figured this wasn’t enough.

There’s just so much more on my mind than that.

So, I decided to sit down

And take a drink.

This drink was like no other though.

It didn’t feel like regular liquor.

I don’t even think it was.

I’m getting drunk in molly.

Drinking like a skunk

High as a kite.

All of the pain I feel is going away.

I’m starting to lose consciousness.

Going in and out, this pain is being lifted from my shoulders.

Let me feel this pain one last time.

I think I have developed a taste for this pain.

Why am I getting drunk in this though?

Drunk in Molly.

She gets me right, every time.


Pill Poppers

Walking through the block, looking for a quick way to get high.

I’m with one homie that pretty much wants the same thing.

We’re pill poppers.

It’s not our fault life is hard.

It’s not our fault these ladies won’t love us.

It’s not our fault we can’t accomplish what we want to.

Life is a bitch.

We all know that.

But shit, this bitch is about to get fucked like she never did before,

Once I start popping those pills.

The pain, the sorrow

I can no longer take it no more.

I’m ready to get the fuck out of here.

I’m pretty sure my homie is telling you the same thing that

I’m telling you right now.

You can’t blame us because we want to smoke

Or round up some Percocets.

I ran out of weed, so you know what that means.

Time to start pill popping.

These drugs are killing me.

But, I don’t care.

Maybe I want to die…


Zombie Stance

You take one, you’re woozy.

You take two, you’re leaning.

I’d be damned if you’re about to take three.

You’ll be in that zombie stance.

You sip one, you’re feeling mellow.

You sip two, you’re feeling like you’re about to melt.

The third one will just be enough to finish you for good.

Not only you’ll be standing like a zombie,

You’ll also be walking like one.

Zombie Stance.

As the zombies walk amongst us with extreme aloofness,

We can’t help but ask why.

These drugs already got a nigga looking Chinese,

but I ain’t Asian.

This alcohol got me smelling like the New York City Sewer.

The gas I smoke be so strong,

you might need an iron lung in order to match with me.

Zombie Stance.

This shit got me feeling like I’m dead.

Am I really dying?


Brain Fried

Something is cooking.

You smell it?

Something is cooking.

It’s not in the kitchen.

It’s not in the restaurant, down the block.

Look deep inside, you’ll see what’s cooking.

My mind happens to be cooking.

I’m brain fried.

My brain is fried.

My brain is so fried,

I think that it scabbed up.

My brain is so fried,

It becomes even harder to think.

My brain is so fried,

It is hard for me to even have emotions.

Emotionless they may call me,

The truth of the matter is…

I fried my brain so much

I doubt that it’s even working.

I just might be dying.

Brain Fried…


Epidemic Utopia

The block is jumping today.

I swear to God, niggas are coming left and right to buy some weight.

The measuring pots are everywhere in the trap house.

We’re cooking shit so strong,

It’ll get you high just by smelling it.

Hoes are on the block hanging out of the back of the whips,

that the big ballers are pulling up in.

Everyone wants some weight.

The teenagers are in the back of the projects,

taking pounds of kush to the face.

The children are in the playground, scrapping up.

The opps are too busy guarding the arena downtown,

to pay attention to what may be jumping off in the hood.

What am I doing, you ask?

Nothing.

I’m just watching the community destroy themselves.

I’m walking around this Epidemic Utopia.

But I’m no better than these guys.

In turn,

I’m destroying myself as well.


Tylenol All Over

Tylenol got me hooked.

I can’t live without taking Tylenol.

There’s nothing wrong though.

There’s nothing wrong with me at all.

I just like popping these shits.

Tylenol in my wallet.

Tylenol in my dresser.

It is in my closet, in my laundry, and under my bed.

I got Tylenol All Over.

I can’t stop taking them.

There’s this feel that I get when I pop them.

I feel invincible.

I feel as if there’s nothing that can touch me.

You know, they help to relieve the stress.

I just like taking them.

I have Tylenol everywhere.

I have Tylenol in my underwear.

I have Tylenol stashed under the floor boards.

I have Tylenol tucked away in the walls.

I use these for recreation.

They’re all over.

Tylenol All Over.


Dancing With the Crack Rocks

Lend me your hand,” she said.

This lady that took me for a dance at this party is unique in her appearance.

Her curves are rugged edges.

She’s the color of silverfish.

Her exterior is extremely hard.

You can do anything to her.

As we dance, she tells me that she was born in the kitchen

Right inside of a pot.

She said it took a lot of kilos for her to even have lungs.

Her rather rocky shape intrigues me.

So, we continue to dance.

We dance to the music that’s rocking on the dancefloor.

All of a sudden, I started feeling surreal.

I felt a high coming on

Oh man

I felt that high come on.

This lady continued to dance with me.

I was realizing.

She was getting me high.

I soon realized this as well…

I was dancing with the crack rocks.


Purple Water

A liquid that’s purple in color,

in living color.

A liquid that’s a bit acidic,

an acid itself.

A liquid that gets you lifted,

a lifter.

Purple Water, that’s the type of shit I’m on.

I sip this water, it tastes like Sprite.

I sip this water, the content in it is so strong.

I sip this water, I’m really feeling it.

This water got me leaning

This water got me spinning

This water got my liver failing

But, I don’t care.

I love the risk that comes along with drinking the Purple Water.

I mix it with some ice,

maybe throw a few Percs into it.

Purple Water…

It’s alright.


Charred


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