Prolific_1011
04-27-07, 07:38 PM
yo the crowns exposed, i spit at crowds wit a thousand flows
flood the mind, lit the ground that houses a proudless poem
through the cloud of smoke, i wrote countless notes
crumble the page for letters to rain till i drown my foes
killahs and crooks wrote the chapters to indigenous books
sin and blood got the world wishing it looked...
younger, a lyrical diet for the climate is thunder
poetry...i write it...spit it quiet like nicest hunters
from winter to summer, temptation lingers upon us
the devil is hoping it grows...
from the oceans open coast to the streets of coconut grove
like shakespeare in his late years...stuck in the best clinic
i wrote the last words that were then printed...
to a book called "the best lyrics"
i got ex-critics depicting the channel of my next spirit
while masses line up for the next ticket
i see rastas who smoke away...surprises of hopeless day
sinners who chose to pray...divided on chosen saints
mental sirens keep me cautious
the virus of imus keeps me coughing
every so often a giant among tyrants hits the coffin
just another titan minus the the gift of a prophet
my stanzas, pure bliss echoed by extravaganza...
i spit the gift that's worth pesos, burn devils to melo my anger
i spit the civil rights with the panthers
i spit the remedy to aids and cancers
i spit the calm to replace my anger
i spit slaves that replace the master
i spit latinos...my people be paid after...
immigrants turn militant...
i spit a soul and the wind that lifted it
dont pick the fruits cause the gift is true,
the same way the grass is green and the sky is blue
prophecy is what i spit in the last minute
yeah son i grant wishes
crack stiches on the surface of evil rap witches
i keep the mics rage tatted as a back-piece
the white page gave birth to a black niece
the black pen...it said bless you
heres a white nephew for the mics next move
im on the 99 percentile, birthed the best and the worst child
from nas to jay, i held the first crown
i flip the first, second or third style...
in the pyramid of flows
digging up tombs, i saw king tuts skin had a cinnamon tone
wit no limited growth, i flip the moon with a venemous flow
rip a tune when i spit it light speed
make you slanted eyes...chinese
flow on the mic like the passive light breeze
a slight squeeze and the planet might freeze
i hold the promise from the god and godess
only solace can cure the most honest bosses
i funnel the hated strength to filter the rated x
a mic and a beat is the basic step....
to digest a verbalist mic check
not a killa, but i lead beats to a murderous-like death
peace to those that perrished in V.A. tech
it may feel like the end, but i see days left
the light on the candles melt the wax
that means the souls in heaven felt this track
write a song, let the pen strike the ritcheous earth...
and shine on the rhymes of the nicest verse
i keep blood draining from a physical frames' nasal
but that's how the game goes
rap is stuck in the safe zone, but we need a change though
from black and white rainbows
to angels wit fat and bright halos
the towers stood below the prophets
ground zero made heros in the process...
plus it took my freedom...of speech
the president beefs bacame a veterans grief
it's stressin the chief but not impressing the streets
cause the beast savors the blood to replenish its teeth
one,
:king:
flood the mind, lit the ground that houses a proudless poem
through the cloud of smoke, i wrote countless notes
crumble the page for letters to rain till i drown my foes
killahs and crooks wrote the chapters to indigenous books
sin and blood got the world wishing it looked...
younger, a lyrical diet for the climate is thunder
poetry...i write it...spit it quiet like nicest hunters
from winter to summer, temptation lingers upon us
the devil is hoping it grows...
from the oceans open coast to the streets of coconut grove
like shakespeare in his late years...stuck in the best clinic
i wrote the last words that were then printed...
to a book called "the best lyrics"
i got ex-critics depicting the channel of my next spirit
while masses line up for the next ticket
i see rastas who smoke away...surprises of hopeless day
sinners who chose to pray...divided on chosen saints
mental sirens keep me cautious
the virus of imus keeps me coughing
every so often a giant among tyrants hits the coffin
just another titan minus the the gift of a prophet
my stanzas, pure bliss echoed by extravaganza...
i spit the gift that's worth pesos, burn devils to melo my anger
i spit the civil rights with the panthers
i spit the remedy to aids and cancers
i spit the calm to replace my anger
i spit slaves that replace the master
i spit latinos...my people be paid after...
immigrants turn militant...
i spit a soul and the wind that lifted it
dont pick the fruits cause the gift is true,
the same way the grass is green and the sky is blue
prophecy is what i spit in the last minute
yeah son i grant wishes
crack stiches on the surface of evil rap witches
i keep the mics rage tatted as a back-piece
the white page gave birth to a black niece
the black pen...it said bless you
heres a white nephew for the mics next move
im on the 99 percentile, birthed the best and the worst child
from nas to jay, i held the first crown
i flip the first, second or third style...
in the pyramid of flows
digging up tombs, i saw king tuts skin had a cinnamon tone
wit no limited growth, i flip the moon with a venemous flow
rip a tune when i spit it light speed
make you slanted eyes...chinese
flow on the mic like the passive light breeze
a slight squeeze and the planet might freeze
i hold the promise from the god and godess
only solace can cure the most honest bosses
i funnel the hated strength to filter the rated x
a mic and a beat is the basic step....
to digest a verbalist mic check
not a killa, but i lead beats to a murderous-like death
peace to those that perrished in V.A. tech
it may feel like the end, but i see days left
the light on the candles melt the wax
that means the souls in heaven felt this track
write a song, let the pen strike the ritcheous earth...
and shine on the rhymes of the nicest verse
i keep blood draining from a physical frames' nasal
but that's how the game goes
rap is stuck in the safe zone, but we need a change though
from black and white rainbows
to angels wit fat and bright halos
the towers stood below the prophets
ground zero made heros in the process...
plus it took my freedom...of speech
the president beefs bacame a veterans grief
it's stressin the chief but not impressing the streets
cause the beast savors the blood to replenish its teeth
one,
:king: