In the unlikely event that you feel by me posting this I acknowledge you as a rapper, flower, mcee or anything remotely close …I beg ya pardon …
I spar … with arts … my prose … Picasso … But the words pierce like darts …in the hearts of a snot nose I rock’d those …I lapped you in years … and in hot flo’s I’m waiting fa one ..but you aint got those … A hot shot …close …range … chalk and the case cold … I rape foes … and curdle the breath …of breast fed adolescents This session’s … the extra … footage …from a bully With a woody …fa pussies …who think they remotely close to me I spike the Punch to drunk …. fiends Till kid left his abstract expressionism painted on the front of my jeans ..like Maskeen … Traces of semen … see men with they mouths open hands on they faces ready to scream …. (IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!!!!!!!) Like … it’s too vivid to be a dream … Till I perpetually shitt on mcees …. Like they faces was latrines… Yameannnnn!!!… nah you don’t know what I mean .. Cause ya too young to understand … The thoughts of grown men … When I was a child I spoke …when spoken .. Putting ya mouth in … with grown folks … ‘slike water …. will get you choking … But I know …what’s get you open … when I post a verse … And You take it back to ya hood like you wrote it …
You 'can' be a pain in my ass and a thorn in my side sometimes -- But when you write nice -- (LIKE ^THIS^) -- I can overlook those issues! --
*Wicked Flow Don'tchaknow*
A guitar string vibrating, a measure of my soul, a breech in the silence -- I've always felt like words come through me & I write them down... they have no master --- gsquared ♥
5. "RE: Art history ....." In response to Reply # 0
I said it once before
OSS acey IP intel property read it backwards and see Picasso was seeing tanks in camo passing on his street and said "me and Brasque invented that" well let me spit the fire liberty: my ryme drain the water anddenda fish ain't hid they floppin on the ground can't breathe thunda head laugh at em gaspin raspin ain't stoppin tell they all dead you think you flow to rhythm but lack the true fire in yeah head just a sin school fish sucka walking undead pointless zombie but I read the story said we don't always win but we always spit truth instead of wack black hole sucked in machienenvolk TV advertising reason hotel motel but I rock ma bell evry season the police and guv'mint mad hatters want to outlaw a kid with weapon gramma ovastand' in the system damns me and my whole clan who kick the survivalist anthem ya roll with the plan but my whole life been a rebellion fighten what they told me cuz it always seemed like hell and conformity, seniority, monetary superiority false to a true kid saw through the matrix like acid, the fascists make a rebel do a bid say find a part in the machine but I burn a structure like molotov liquid brag and boast if you want but your whole style a carbon copy of every other dumb deaf blind co-signed to the holocaust, free style ovastand what the system try to do to me, an alien singularity readin project blue book the other day bout how they turned this country to a factory
dis me all you want, if that's ya jerk off, whateva I seek the truth, and you satisfied with cleva