Black Poetry : To sleepers (part III)

Discussion in 'Black Poetry - Get Your Flow On!' started by MADDRAPPER, Sep 10, 2002.

  1. MADDRAPPER

    MADDRAPPER Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    To sleepers (part III)

    You can’t freak the funk if you’re a sleep punk no way
    Too great a height chump you can’t escape this fight today
    Sleepers harm **** with the odor from their armpit
    I fight hard just to use right guard before the storm hit
    Caught up in Hip Hop rhymes brought to an abrupt stop
    I snap chain and rap pain sleeper crap is lame and not hot
    Couldn’t see dope if you saw crack through a microscope
    You whack without hope like a rope you tied up in your quote
    Yall fake dancers couldn’t come ill with prostate cancer, nope
    Wake up with your fake butt even with a map and navigation
    Your rap is off location like lost ships, false scripts no dedication
    So panic in this situation as you face organic degeneration
    Must have the ability to rhyme don’t be silly and blind
    A thug don’t play at Subway get a Philly steak sometime
    Spit acid on plastic watch it melt my drastic lyrics are felt
    Like daddy belt it whelp like crazy sleeper cats hear it and knelt
    Couldn’t come nice and clean if yall were ice cream got a vice
    On your spleen will knife your team I got the funk have a slice
    Rap wouldn’t be exciting if it was zap by lightning
    Your crap frightening like Tales of The Crypt writings
    In open water I’m choking and slaughter these sleepers
    MC’s can’t be weepers my rhymes like mortars wearing sneakers

    NADDRAPPER PEACE
     
  2. MADDRAPPER

    MADDRAPPER Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    UPPIN FOR A RESPONSE
     
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