A Mic is A Mic is A MIC and they’ve come to rip it pull its’ cord clear out the socket. To blow it up with verbal bombs over-enthusiastically they’ve lost their calm some of their words just belong on the walls of johns cause all their doing is talking shi+. At 90 words a minute 90 words a minute 90 words a minute Trying to fit as many word phrases and hooks as they can thinking that ripping mics is the only way to win poetry slams Me I don’t give a d*mn, about pieces that violently trip about the shi+ they rip. A Mic is A Mic is A MIC and they’ve come to rip it pull its’ cord clear out the socket. They consider themselves lyrical masters when others consider them as verbal master-baters. Strictly saying things for shock value is valueless if it’s not truth from your soul. Strictly using your verbal skills to break **** apart destructively never building, never making anything whole. A Mic is A Mic is A MIC and I’ve come to heal it cause this microphone is alive with ancient griot spirits. After they’ve ripped this here mic to death I come right behind them and resurrect healing mics from foul verbal breath treat it like a child nestled against mothers breast I put out my hand touch mic and it is healed pull out verbals that audiences can feel unwrap my poetry scrolls and break the seventh seal without subjecting audience to rhetoric I speak thoughts on just about any subject from time to the n*ggaz that be droppin dime from metaphysics to whack hip hop lyrics from love to safe sex body gloves from hate to kicking ***** of n*ggaz that rape from truth to what the hell is happening to the youth from lies to what happens when microphones die when they die I come by and gain respect cause I came to teach minds while I mic resurrect. So after each poet trying to kill the mic has ripped it I will just come over and touch it A mic is A mic is A mic do what you feel with it kill it, maime it, explode it, shoot it, **** it, rape it, rip it But Me? I plan to heal it.