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View Entry 4389

Competition Entry by Rhipz (Guest)

Submit Date: February 8, 2008

This is dedicated to...
I ain't gon' be held responsible for your perspectives and shit,
What the fuck you starin' at punk?
Man I got somethin' to spit, damned mic is filthy, check check,
Ladies and gentlemen...Shit what am I sayin'?
I want y'all to just shut up and tilt ya head to this, hey yo,
I now what time it is when they'd be sayin' that,
I've been blessed with a dirty childhood at vegeance I'm commited to,
But it's a debt of six feet my run ain't forfeited to,
I'd be considered to, abusin' rap that I'm givin' you,
If offsprings bleach hair, dressed plastic, bloomin' fringes too,
Din't cast impressions to be sniffed off my chopped in and screweds,
Else I'd shook up flossin' haters to be grasped to they hinges,
When they be chin checkin' my moves, eyein' me stride by the distance,
I live a dream of head in the sky to trample yappin' black midgets,
And slit 'apples out them sick fucks and stranglin' rap critics,
Beefin' at my issues I'm stirrin' up to straight snap this minute,
To slap dubs on they map and buckin' a strap to finish,
Meltin' pot of chronic buzzin' kinks where's MC Cat A-List?
Peeps be flippin' over EPs ASAP for this,
I'd dip like an Aftermathmatician-turn-Protagonist,
Spittin' fire to get quoted and rock heads forth and back for this,
I'm done sneaks coated to beat charges, Too tack on this,
Hey yo first things first do them what's been gettin' you,
Put down a verse, they be puttin' you off and sweatin' you,
Same hollerin' the shit ain't you, But ya continue,
Until you be sealin' they lips, Pinin' them tongues,
Puffin' them awe when you pumpin' it raw, when you toppin' it off.
Fresh out the label, thats for what they be droppin' they jaws over.
Back the fuck off, Don't inherit my beef 'cause I'm hell aroused,
Quit strollin' across your limits to tempt me,
There's plenty of heat saggin' these denims of clips to empty,
Take that as an introduction fool, Got a nerve to get me?
[Gunshots] [Explosion]

Livin' on guns and survivin' on skills,
When the city so stacked in, Ridin' with a license to kill,
So if you see me around don't get a hope on this,
Just get down on your knees and get a load this, [Gunshot]

Rushin' the club. . .[Shit this ain't it],
I'm livin' a dream caught up in struggles I've never thought of,
Watched underdogs evicted to pavements,
Zippin' no 'suits when brought up,
They givin' it a rest underground till the space deserved clots up,
Career you say ? Still buddin' but my feet fails at me nuthin,
I take pride in ignorance, Attentions may rush me,
Ain't no one budgin' me off the streets, Motherfuck don't touch me,
Right when globtrotters gon' nappin' and good gone capped in,
Hobos can't opt to be an inch from rottin' trash bags then,
But I'm bailin' this slum to keep up my family with few crumbs,
I ain't a mentor to this run, But believe in havin' it done,
My life is 'Rabbit Run' for bread, If I could grab it once,
Make up clean to my dues not through grapplin' guns,
I'mma bend and break if I go on haulin' this weight,
If they can't take it back, They better chew it off my blades,
Yeah make them chew it of my blades,
Rearrange me steady off this ache,
Derailed from manhood, It's a disrespect from me,
When livin' up to the tempo there is more to expect from me,
And I'm this close to crumble, There's never no ectasy,
To work so much sweat with failure uptights more excess on me,
Still this close to slip to swallow they stress on me,
Decietful to my dreams still suppressed to be,
But sorry momma for your ill heart to bear bold all emotions,
I ain't returnin' home 'til I can vibe at over coasts-in',
If I'm seen roamin' the streets past curfews tryna make on a killin',
Don't chatter at callibers ain't accidentally grillin',
I'mma pop revenues and thicken up wallet until then,
I'mma swell my feet to the end of the wits I've concealed in,

Voting Poll

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Words and Closing Date


flamethrower, accident, kangaroo, level, shark, oblivion, storm, vehicle, squeeze, energetic

Closing Date

May 29, 2016

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