Black Poetry : STREETS #2

Discussion in 'Black Poetry - Get Your Flow On!' started by MADDRAPPER, Nov 27, 2003.

  1. MADDRAPPER

    MADDRAPPER Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    STREETS #2

    Many domes can’t handle this funk, yall kneel don’t gamble
    Decorate my wreck fate then evaluate my progress like Tisa Campbell
    Martin Lawrence try put a sprung tongue in her mouth on the show //
    On a farm they fry steers but when alarm I cry tears
    That make my life dim, strife stem I’m a guy fears
    To die appears beautiful is that my only lonely escape?
    Fed rhymes to headlines on a literary obituary that’ll be great
    Like A-rab tribes my vo-cab rides on camels with two humps
    True funk on dessert level so my lyrical substance jumps
    Thug above the rim spark and tower
    But out of love embark on power
    Like Hitler done but he goofed
    Better yet I’ll just be a fiddler on the roof
    Because if I start a Holocaust
    My part will be lost let me take my polo off
    Try overcome the dumb that talk scum and walk bum
    In the hood, roll dice and hold ice in the form of bling son
    Got mean flames like a hot Taco
    That consumes lands between Spain and Morocco
    Lyrics remain in flock doe got to slow down or stop yo
     
  2. MADDRAPPER

    MADDRAPPER Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    Like a cow somehow after chow I push the scorn
    With my horns, then watch porn sex I adorn
    Over a bag of popcorn let my new emotions be born
    Cum oceans torn between sheets hurt like poke by a thorn //
    Peep quote and keep afloat bad script stinks ships sinks
    Like the titanic I’m the type panic underwater hair kink
    So yall provide a place so I can hide in disgrace blink
    Out over a bagel
     
  3. Bluewater

    Bluewater Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    rock it
    no hide
    like how you vibe
    eyes open
    no disgrace
    this is yout place
    feel you
    Peace
     
  4. PositiveMindset

    PositiveMindset Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    Let the verbs go as U consistently flow,
    I dig the way U spit as U let your skills be shown.
    Like I sed If there were beats I'd bump U loudly in the streets,
    Lettin' everyone around me know that Madd's the M.C. I find unique.
    U do your thang playin' this rhymin' game immortalizin' your name.
    Your drop, don't change, cuz your mind spits flames, I can see U lyrically gaining fame.
    From the 1st of U I read, I said this kid's got skills in his head that all these fakers dread,
    So drop your words & believe they'll be heard from peeps that appreciate your nouns' marriage 2 verbs.

    Do your thang, bruh.
     
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