Prolific_1011
10-19-06, 12:59 AM
i verbally abuse the youth wit views
leave the mind wit a bruise, like the mind of a jew
haunted by doors of an oven
i could count to a hundred
and a paint a picture wit infinite brushes
while a beat fufills my need like medicine
the heat brings chills down skeleton...bones
diamonds and stones
breeds eternal greed in those striving for thrones
in army fatigue suites... and military boots,
im marching for the chosen troops,
who go through emotions like an open book
son, dont catch feelings,
the gun by the waist empowers the buildings
the pilgrims killed the indians
the indians... proceeded wit skin peeling...
arrows aimed at mammels to keep em' warm
i rather light a candle and get through the storm
i need a chance, a chance to plan the battle
im from the land, the land of sand and camels
arabs... wit a pair of...sandles
the serpen creeps through the turben
racists say my lyrics are too urban,
im like yeah...my papers are sky skrapers
it scratches the sky...
damn what happended to rhymes...
my rappin is like...grapes smashed into wine
so we could all toast to a fraction of flows
what ever happened to those...
poets like edgar... allen poe
my skills matches those...artist...
that wont tarnish classic poems
you not on my level, i build on steps of a temple
i pray for those who are blessed by the devil
i grab the pen, fresh like the stress in your fears
drunks wit tears wit the stench of beers
before the world blows up................................
i need a corona, spanish for crown, cause im holding it down
a heineken till i begin to rhyme again
drink away the pain, dismising the side effects
budweiser for poetical writers,
i breathe fire like dragons,
rotate tires, mechanics who challenge the drivers
i challenge the rhymers in my radius
my greatness...is defined by the lines in the pages
i inherited the passion to write,
the rite of passage is like...
inherited assets and a mansion wit mics
one
:king:
leave the mind wit a bruise, like the mind of a jew
haunted by doors of an oven
i could count to a hundred
and a paint a picture wit infinite brushes
while a beat fufills my need like medicine
the heat brings chills down skeleton...bones
diamonds and stones
breeds eternal greed in those striving for thrones
in army fatigue suites... and military boots,
im marching for the chosen troops,
who go through emotions like an open book
son, dont catch feelings,
the gun by the waist empowers the buildings
the pilgrims killed the indians
the indians... proceeded wit skin peeling...
arrows aimed at mammels to keep em' warm
i rather light a candle and get through the storm
i need a chance, a chance to plan the battle
im from the land, the land of sand and camels
arabs... wit a pair of...sandles
the serpen creeps through the turben
racists say my lyrics are too urban,
im like yeah...my papers are sky skrapers
it scratches the sky...
damn what happended to rhymes...
my rappin is like...grapes smashed into wine
so we could all toast to a fraction of flows
what ever happened to those...
poets like edgar... allen poe
my skills matches those...artist...
that wont tarnish classic poems
you not on my level, i build on steps of a temple
i pray for those who are blessed by the devil
i grab the pen, fresh like the stress in your fears
drunks wit tears wit the stench of beers
before the world blows up................................
i need a corona, spanish for crown, cause im holding it down
a heineken till i begin to rhyme again
drink away the pain, dismising the side effects
budweiser for poetical writers,
i breathe fire like dragons,
rotate tires, mechanics who challenge the drivers
i challenge the rhymers in my radius
my greatness...is defined by the lines in the pages
i inherited the passion to write,
the rite of passage is like...
inherited assets and a mansion wit mics
one
:king: