Wednesday, March 5, 2008

I just wanna rhyme and my mind is on fine beats,
I grind and drop these phrases for my peeps,
The ill method of the way I speak, the bro with the sickest flow,
smoother than the slickest though, more glow than the rays of the sun,
I come with a hype flow, the type you never heard before,
more rawer than shushi, do not be confused,
the real deal in rap, I ensure to amuse,
you all, the unique soul, out to ball,
set realistic goals to achieve,
although the hunger makes me strive,

I rhyme and bust lines doper than dust,
it is a must, I got to rock the microphone,
doing this for longer than a decade,
I lust platic plates to rotate, my soul richer,
than the soil of Kuwait, the props I am after,
The laughter is loud, when I see these phonies fake *ish,
I am blasting my clouts for God's sake kid,
the last man standing, brand me as an original MC,
the live wire, hotter than hell fire, guarantee to take you higher,
higer than a kite, higher than a aeroplane or higher than a sattelite,
melt mics with vocals, remain the ill,


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