Black Poetry : In this crap game his rap fame knew no bottom but // His crew was rotten for cash had a wimpy thirs

Discussion in 'Black Poetry - Get Your Flow On!' started by rhymebad, Apr 13, 2016.

  1. rhymebad

    rhymebad Well-Known Member MEMBER

    United States
    May 11, 2006
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    In this crap game his rap fame knew no bottom but //
    His crew was rotten for cash had a wimpy thirst end up //
    With an empty purse. He was plenty creative but many //
    Of the natives didn’t care for his long rhymes not any //
    At all so he went online with a mini computer then hired //
    A skinny tutor to help out a new step no doubt but fired //
    Her after a week, he could rap with ease very slick then //
    Met a Japanese chick learned how to use chopsticks when //
    He ate, from the hood oh yes but stood among the best he //
    Was pure bred and sure to get ahead in society a stressed G //
    His hardcore path was static but his score in mathematic was //
    Good, smart in school but let rap art rule his brain not hot cuz //
    Even though he aim to please, crime became a lame disease started //
    To dominate his head it gripped the fool started to skip school departed //
    A drop out, as a blind slob couldn’t find a job started to chat with //
    A drug dealer, chick thought he was handsome and dope with a gift //
    But he abandoned hope of being a swift computer programmer drift //
    In the street, can’t compare his history and now an air of mystery about //
    His doings in town screwing around with crack was whack his route //
    Now befuddled he was all aroused lived in a small house almost no //
    Yard but his flow was hard on the microphone even from home mow //
    The lawn with a Briggs and Stratton wanted to big in Manhattan glow //
    Under Hollywood's lights from a jolly hood where fights were common //