Friday, February 8, 2008

Blazing tracks for your ear drums, while the rhythem hits,
I continue to spit the lines off my dome,
rip the microphone with grown rhymes, poems are fine,
flowing with unique techniques, I wreck these tracks,
with countless mic checks, I got next rhymes designed,
like a architect, whack rappers fronting on me ain't heard nothing yet,
can not wait till I put this on plastic,
the massive rap hits solid like rock,

yes indeed I come with fresh raps for my peeps,
I speak no evil on the mic, I am like the best kept secret,
flowing with a style which is free, rappers are cheesy like brie,
take it easy, my steezy is plain English,
I rhyme to ignite the dancefloor, enlighten the listner,
got the game on lock like a convict,
I am a calm kid, I am down with real kids,
who ensure to ill on the beats, I walk the streets,
which is hot, I see through the plot, while you get knocked,

You are a Hollywood act, kicking crappy raps about cooking crack,
you lacking the real, I am spitting while the wheels spin,
what the deal? I am not running or busting guns at cops,
not slinging rocks like a Palastanian, I set the scene with the pen,
visualize the mathmetical graphics for your ears,


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