Prolific_1011
11-01-06, 06:58 PM
yo...im back on the right path
on point, like bypass
as a babys born, the eldery parrish
marriage...one is saved...pain from a mis...carriage
im like the gift...parents pass to their kids
never was facinated by chrome strapped to the rims
i flip the pages on rhyme...books
cops and blinds crooks...i play my role...what ever the mind took
to take control of my soul as my eyes look...
at my habitat, fat chains and yankee caps
slaves wit ashy backs gave birth to nasty raps
music flows through my veins,
its not a mirage...its god that rose through my name
nazareth crown... the essence is a part of me now
i dream of paradise
no parasites, just a pad and a pair of mics
im counting my blesses, beautiful days allowed me to cherish...
every minute down to the second...
im proud of my weapon...
no guns...the breath in my lungs verbalize the words in my tongue
my rhymth moves to the burst of a drum
while birds on the sun take a turn... as i learn from my son...
who's unborn, till the mic is my wife...giving birth to life
this is...lyrical fire that burns through the stripes...
of conferate flags...im the man...the mastermind of delicate plans
in my elegant stance...i worship my hands like the elephant man
i dream of musical symbols
lovin whatever... im into...
back wit a passion, the pads on the matress,
wise like... grand dads wit the glasses...
that see beyond the wrath of my actions
the pen is a gift, im stroking the wrist
my mic is a candle so im blowing a wish
*****BONUS VERSE*****
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
i got skills that bring 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...
the winds drifting....fading away the shadows...
of 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
the image of riches is definite clear
the outcome? a problem while the presidents here
like drunks wit tears wit the stench of beers
before the world blows up................................
i need a corona, spanish for crown
no doubt, 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
on point, like bypass
as a babys born, the eldery parrish
marriage...one is saved...pain from a mis...carriage
im like the gift...parents pass to their kids
never was facinated by chrome strapped to the rims
i flip the pages on rhyme...books
cops and blinds crooks...i play my role...what ever the mind took
to take control of my soul as my eyes look...
at my habitat, fat chains and yankee caps
slaves wit ashy backs gave birth to nasty raps
music flows through my veins,
its not a mirage...its god that rose through my name
nazareth crown... the essence is a part of me now
i dream of paradise
no parasites, just a pad and a pair of mics
im counting my blesses, beautiful days allowed me to cherish...
every minute down to the second...
im proud of my weapon...
no guns...the breath in my lungs verbalize the words in my tongue
my rhymth moves to the burst of a drum
while birds on the sun take a turn... as i learn from my son...
who's unborn, till the mic is my wife...giving birth to life
this is...lyrical fire that burns through the stripes...
of conferate flags...im the man...the mastermind of delicate plans
in my elegant stance...i worship my hands like the elephant man
i dream of musical symbols
lovin whatever... im into...
back wit a passion, the pads on the matress,
wise like... grand dads wit the glasses...
that see beyond the wrath of my actions
the pen is a gift, im stroking the wrist
my mic is a candle so im blowing a wish
*****BONUS VERSE*****
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
i got skills that bring 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...
the winds drifting....fading away the shadows...
of 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
the image of riches is definite clear
the outcome? a problem while the presidents here
like drunks wit tears wit the stench of beers
before the world blows up................................
i need a corona, spanish for crown
no doubt, 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