Happyland is heaven, my brethrens. My Pops love this ish. I was Prince Hobo, Leopold Balthazar i & i (shout out to my Rastafarians. i & I are together. My pops and i are oneness). Jah, that's right, man-be-kind I was lost when I left the clover of heaven. They only recognized i by my pungent mustiness. I was stanky rich in the wilderness. I smelt like the ass of an Ass (that is not asinine for that is astute). People fronted on my style. Don't front on my style though. Hair like lamb's wool. I digress, but don't regress. Can an immaculate motherfunker wear sandals and a mocha robe anymore? I left my pops hoping he would come to me, but I had to come to Him. Pops has other children and he can't leave heaven without some janky stuff going on. He was always with me when I left, but I would never take another man's ticket to Happyland. That is where we differ. I never needed a ticket for the kingdom of heaven is in here (pointing to my heart right now).But he is writing his own story and I am imposing my will. Y'all should check out this brother. It may be a little wordy, but the manchild got skills. Don't be fooled, he is spitting that good ole religion just with colorful-ass threads. I was lost like the Prince. We are all Princes and Princesses in the kingdom of heaven. Thy glory will be yours.
GOD BE WITH YE, NOT GOODBYE