Wednesday, July 23, 2014

Me and the pen is like a meaning reprise... it's seen in my eyes... Deep, beady, disguised... which lies the evil demon that hides..




Still poor n' still broke... but there's still hope..
At least I'm still dope, come on...f'real, bro?
I'd kill for getting cash, I'm real grown..
I can feel home, right where I'm from... living, well furnished
but still fight like a bum..
That's trifling, son... your only height's the slum
from the Bodega's to ghettos, beggars who pop.... without the Wayans Brothers..
Yeah.... n' I serve without a paid Butler..
My DNA butter? sharper than the Blade Runner..
In my world, everyday summer...
In that grey Hummer H2... I get dug, I'm putting ye grave under...
That's why names wonder about me like i'm down in the county...
They now wanna clown me cause I'm from Canada, so I sound like a Mountie...
But my hunger like Beth Chapman, going down for a Bounty...
Calling Leland in like, "there he is on the screen again"...
Stand up, but you kids are stand up, like the comedian...
March of the Penguins, bring Morgan Freeman in..
Me and the pen is like a meaning reprise... it's seen in my eyes...
Deep, beady, disguised... which lies the evil demon that hides..
Another tortured soul on the portrait roll...
looking at you, seems forcible....that's something family courts should know..
Kids of failing relationships become troubled as teens
the government sees this phenomenon, but where's the common law?
It's like the teacher in the detention centre, nodding off...
And now? how can you help it? as far as they're concerned...
The world rejects them... instead of a connection, 15 years later
they're getting arrested, a product of real love that was never invested..

Na, won't even go there... I'm pass that... Putting stocks in the future estate, my plate's the Nasdaq... riding till the wheels fall off, I'm still in the fast track... You wanna talk dough, but you're bred' off killing my cash stack..




Lyrics split, the echelon of rap, reflecting the mirror tip...
I hear it drip-ping off the paper, there's the experience...
I've brought my keystyles to many sites, averaging AT LEAST 50 lines a verse...
and every time it works, but afterwards my mind, it hurts..
I start running on empty, then these punks wanna come and resent me..
But I always comeback, so tell Spalding that I'm BALLING like that...
Punches fire off to the throat, watch em' fall on their back...
Then I give em' a suplex, n' roundhouse kick em' ALL TO THAT MAT..
They wanna attack, but it's in their best interest not to.
I throw shots through, hit everyone that you got with you..
Take you out of the writing game like a dropped issue...
Can't wipe the smirk off your face, does anyone got tissues?
Yeah.. officially great at dissing your mate...I'm a mystery...
made for history sake....But I mean, you're understanding that, right?
UNIVERSALLY recognized, but I'm seen in a Canada light..
So no matter which fan can recite, my lyrics, each show sounds like Amateur Night..
Wanna fight for your freedom? or keep the light to the ceiling...
and not see? You're either an original or a copy.... you got me?
Fuck it, let's talk turkey... I'll treat this like a Holiday...
this is my model, stay on my Charlie Angels FULL THROTTLE play...
Shit's like the Animal Kingdom, I'm seeing a lot of prey..
Just not a lot of carnivores to my artist score
art of war, Sun Tzu, they need to market more...
If it's all about a philosophy? why I'm reading Rene Descartes for?
The true meaning of life is seeing the hype n' not agreeing with it..
Like me, admittedly believing these evil gimmicks...
Na, won't even go there... I'm pass that...
Putting stocks in the future estate, my plate's the Nasdaq...
riding till the wheels fall off, I'm still in the fast track...
You wanna talk dough, but you're bred' off killing my cash stack..

I often don't care when I walk into a scheme of mine... You read a line, n' don't even see until the scheme's redefined.




Fuck it... I got time, might's well spend it..
Might as well swing off the fences, knock a kick to your senses.
N' if you're feeling lucky, don't allow Google to elude you.
I will, put you out of your misery, moving whimsically...
Through every intricate dissing scheme... you kidding? yo, this is mean.
This is seen, by far, as a tactic of killing you, till you bleed.
Till the amount of contusions creates an outer illusion
of you imitating a geyser of Red Kool-Aid, pouring out you, profusely.
You're fucking Goofy. More so than the Mickey guy..
Cornea than the muscles scene in your FREAKING eye. This is why..
I often don't care when I walk into a scheme of mine...
You read a line, n' don't even see until the scheme's redefined.
I paint portraits of naked corpses laying next to stable horses..
in a dim lit room, no clothes myself - to you like, "ain't it gorgeous?"
Isn't it magical? A perverse way of seeing a tragedy
as an upside of living amongst humanity, annually.
I'll make your Grandma knee down, then make her sit on her fanny, b.
Break her like a twig, then take out the rest of your family tree..
You understanding me? Eyes beat red..
I shit bullets and I eat lead.. Suffice to say, I keep fed.
Each thread... is just me, seeing MC's dead.
Shit's appalling. I'm your modern day Timothy Dalton...
figure you'll fault, and I'll be quick to diminish your cauldron...
with a written, assaulting ye, to you're beat into a submission, applauding..
Huh? Yeah, why would you be? Are you that stupid?
Oh wait. I forgot, you think A$ap Rocky's rap music.

packed in a concept, the practical context alone... is actual a masterful logic to follow.. Back to Apollo, the forgotten message that was capped in a bottle.. n' set to ashore across to Pacific faster than the Pathogen... y'all know.




But I digress - my mind's a nest, of rhyming designer sweats...
outlined the text, necessary to define the steps, to reach the prime of Messiah, yes..
my kind of desire's finding the fire necessary to reach..
...the message buried in here, my chariot's near the precipice...
so standing next to this, lyricist here's probably their best bet..
Matter fact? battle rap isn't even the question yet..
I resurrect the myriad of logic n' wear it, like it's apparel...
Write like the Pharaoh, igniting the barrel' - eclipsing, the flurry flying of arrows
from the Spartan's to the Persian's is the way I keep this mic up in here, bro....
I apologize.... Red Seas, lyrics departing tides...
Crossing bridges with words, n' splitting apart the art of the Apartheids..
My... target's been marginalized.... a marksmen...
dark skinned... but sharp as a tack, parked in the back... at the surface, like it's a shark fin.
Yeah... Celph's is the heart in... the internal organ of music..
the formula used in metaphors and performing acoustics... so yeah,
if you get a sword, you better know how to use it..
It's just.. a forewarning to you, cause I got more war in this than
Western Society conforming to trends... this forum board's is nothing more than
the chorus that's in.... the pattern warped... in tangent to me..
draggin' your corpse across the plantation as hard as a javelin force..
But that doesn't matter, of course.... I got so much lines
packed in a concept, the practical context alone... is actual a masterful logic to follow..
Back to Apollo, the forgotten message that was capped in a bottle..
n' set to ashore across to Pacific faster than the Pathogen... y'all know.
I can keep going with this? my flow's the abyss..
In my top tier? There's only me. No other soul can exist..
The sole proprietor controlling the niche...
Yeah.... so let's stop with that, cocky cat... concocting rap
off the top, knock your offer back.
Fucking copycat. Talking smack' against me'... is the beginning
of where your ends meet... n' we don't got a pretend..
my thought's not melodic n' when the byproduct begins to try to war..
It's a lot like, being blindfolded in a dark room - trying find a door.
Their minds are kind of poor.. a penny for their thoughts..
would make 'sense' if it profited me.. but I'm a scholar, got a doctorate
seen... n' lyrical philosophy, key in..
N' if you were as smart, though, we're probably agreeing..
But we're not, so you see it's possible - you got to be DREAMING..
to even draw the conclusion that it's probable..
my model of fusion - perspiring lyrics..
is all for amusement... cause even College scholarship students..
can acknowledge the movement acknowledged to you to what's spawned in the blueprint..

Wow... never got tired of rapping. Still at the helm, never took the time to hire a Captain. I am in action. Me and Michael Bay got a dire attraction to blowing things up. Only with me, I stick around to see your kind of reaction.

 
 
 
Yeah, tell em' to go cry home like, "THAT'S WHAT YOU FUCKING GET"...
Do I look upset? Do I look mad?
There's a lot of fish in the sea, so give me a hook, dad.
Yeah. I'm the storm bringer. I don't completely flaunt, I let my metaphors linger..
On the precipice. Make an indention where you was resting, bitch.
Yeah I got messages for any receptionist. You hang up my phone call?
I'm raiding you like a faggot in Stone Wall.
Put you in the freezer with Rocky - watching your bones thaw.
Fuck Spiderman, I'm Bonesaw.
So raw, I don't cook my Hamburger, I just eat it with coleslaw.
Oh, ha. I saw what did there. Did you?
Bet you fucking didn't. So shut up and admit it.
I could I spit a thousand keys, while you come up with a gimmick.
So sick, I run up in a clinic, asking for the fucking attendant.
I'm a hustler, your suckers a.... nothing, go for the Jugular..
Tell your mother to come to my house, my nuts need some rubbing up.
Here's my rubber nut. Now go home, you done enough.
Yeah, give me brain. Are you dumb enough? You want some of the cum in yah?
AWWW SHIT. acknowledge the brolic-ness.
Catch me with the college kids, rocking a Hollister shirt
like a nervous wreck. Tripping off Percocets.
Verses get crazy, suffering birth defects... it's hurting, yes.
Wow... never got tired of rapping.
Still at the helm, never took the time to hire a Captain.
I am in action. Me and Michael Bay got a dire attraction
to blowing things up. Only with me, I stick around to see your kind of reaction.
Fuck it. I keep firing, blasting.
Killing ya. Grilling ya for as long as I'm willing ta'...
So you need to come to a conclusion now. The music child.
You've forsaken me? Yeah, it's obvious to see you got that Judas style, money..
I'm nicknaming you Juvenile. Funny? don't think so.
Break the clock hands off n' watch your boat sink slow.
"I'm sick.", is that what you think, bro?
I think no. I drink SO... fucking much that I ink
flows, dressed in a pink robe.

Which's all I need for me to step into your subconscious slate... contemplate a world of my own, n' push your boundaries beyond its gate... Heartless - nothing platonic, mate... sort of demonic, more than iconic, traits of hip hop pull your monitor from it's sardonic state..




I key-style - which is flattering, I suppose.
But it's certainly not the best I can do...
every conceptual move is more a less perplexing to whomever
reads the text, and it's true...
twist your neck, till you flesh's askew
n' resembles the Exorcist, too. I spit transgression, the few
that see it, need the rest of the view
to come to the conclusion that it's not an illusion..
You see? I plot it, a lot like...the thought's amusing
so jot it in use a melodic fusion of patterns drawn...
to time segments n' periodical movements..
Word...
Got em' crumbling, dog ...n' some will applaud...
the rest will hate, designate shots that penetrate
thoughts faster than a millisecond of conscious...
Which is all I need for me to step into your subconscious slate...
contemplate a world of my own, n' push your boundaries beyond its gate...
Heartless - nothing platonic, mate...
sort of demonic, more than iconic, traits of hip hop pull your monitor from it's sardonic state..
Yeah, fuck it. I'm keying.
But feel like I'm dreaming in time, can't see what my mind's weaving..
teetering the scales of your logic, how's our product even?
It's not... you're mistaken here...I'm awaken, but bare naked, yeah...
rear-naked choke-hold the heir, make it clear...
Placing my stakes in here like the market, I'm taking shares...
Bone hoe's (Bono's) like Chaz - yeah, I think it's Cher...
I think it's fair enough... reflecting modern concepts, putting the mirrors up..
Make it abundantly clear, to queers, when I hear yah stuff...
Mixed emotions involved, I don't think you're dope here it all...
Can't aFord to lose my Focus at all...
Social media's grown to evolve, n' y'all are just another post on the wall...
I'm a dirt bag, a bag of dirt. You faggots hurt.
Mad... seeing the plague at work - you live in the 90's there, with your dragon shirt.
My style's a product of transcending. Plans ending to begin
of thinking outside of the box, as soon as I see the side's unlocked.
Outside of Zion, the lion that watches the herd running like it's a Fox..
My writing is shots of lightning, brightening watts in my idea bulb..
Feeding off of the pre-evolved sub species, y'all...
Because I can, exposing the upcoming plan... fuck a fan.
Got drive, tie up your seat-buckle band...
Feeling tired n' weary... comparing William Paley's design with science and theory...

Tuesday, July 15, 2014

Uber delicious! I propel musical interest within our generation to an unusual distance.. Hip Hop Is Dead? Oh it isn't? Then who's funeral is this?




I get it, aesthetic fire... burning my soul
the ember, turning to coal... had a yearning from inside me to learn the unknown...
Called it my home, alcoholic, but melodic in tone..
With such an attraction to it, the very thought of it's an erotica zone...
Yeah... crispiness. My interest is, pursuing it's livelihood.
Is it beside me? good. Told your Frodo to come and suck my Elijah Wood...
Uh yeah.... that's a metaphor setting a meta score...
Uber delicious! I propel musical interest within our generation to an unusual distance..
Hip Hop Is Dead? Oh it isn't? Then who's funeral is this?
Lift the veil? See a death-stricken male. Instant FAIL!
Yeah, what that means is, we're subject to image...
Enough gimmicks in the industry to push the publishers limits.
I summoned the physics of punishing humbling critiques who run with this, cynic-
ism, going through it.... their so influenced, hearing the Omen's movements...
Yeah, roll with it. Go with it. Have fun while you're at it.
If you look inside of the box, instead of out if it, you'll find this dramatic.
When in actuality? It's kind of just tragic.
If I were to relate this to owning a home, I'd say it's the old virgin, still inside of his attic.
Sorry, I'm just a rhyming fanatic... when I think about the consequence
of what we sacrifice? to our side of the deal.. it's no wonder we seek out that kind of appeal..
Trouble finding what's real... the greatest minds are concealed
inside of a box, trying to feel inside of it still, deciding it's why
We're puppets.. don't look much deeper than that rabbit hole.
But I'm in travel mode, straddled to luggage, baby. I have to go.
Yeah.... keep jotting down', deep, plotted sound...
deep conscious, propelling your feet to leap off the ground...