great, great stuff P
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great, great stuff P
We spoke on marriage more than we did the miscarriage/
you disparaged my parenthood, that should be apparent/
our parenting’s inherent, yet you was aberrant with my seeds/
errant when you decreed I wasn’t caring for your needs/
cuz I’m carin for my daughter, she’s the heiress to my creed/
but you the Paris to my Leeds, like Polaris thru night trees/
the terrace on my eaves, and I cherished the nights we’ve/
laid barest on white sheets, sharin where our lives lead/
but you was unfair and naive to believe demon’s whispers/
the decrees of evil sistas who wish they was equal wit cha/
yo disbelief burnt my blood but my soul was even crisper/
I ran that path for you fast til my feet was deep wit blisters/
now I clean my whiskers wit the pumice of dead promise/
left guardless in a empty bed cuz I left a misled goddess/
to be honest, yo lack of modesty is what destroyed it all/
I stayed thru summer but yo pride came before the fall...
(chorus)
Things fall apart, like cheap cars and soft hearts/
things fall apart, like relationships wit false starts/
things fall apart, like arguments fulla smart remarks/
things fall apart, but it take heart to turn chaos into art...
We spoke on my babymamas more than we did commitment/
we didn’t keep persistent, intent on perfection this instant/
some days we was distant, indignant but still sexual/
ate you on blankets like a picnic, this dick was the best for you/
the sex was more than sensual, consensual, unconventional/
I paid special attention to the tension thru ya midsection, boo/
e’erytime was intentional, never choose to use protection, too/
both us hopin that potentially a pregnancy would be eventual/
it’s incomprehensible, the depths of hell to which we’ve fell/
I’m at a motel, hoes wavin they Nextel, waitin to exhale/
makin my next sell, evadin a wet cell, but jail is all I see/
break bread wit all my three, on a quaint bed wit Paul by me/
I shake when ya name come on my call ID, I’m trippin/
I’m gettin guap tippin, but it’s not worth how I’m livin/
givin up, slippin, gettin up, since prison I ain’t risen up/
might as well live it up, if we quittin then I don’t give a fuck...
We spoke on the future more than we did the present/
I was more incessant, nevertheless it’s a mutual lesson/
today is a beautiful present, let’s try to live in this time/
I was blind to errors of mine, boo, but to forgive is divine/
lemme give it to you while I’m out here gettin what’s mine/
the time’s prime, I’m grindin so ain’t no time to sit in a line/
I know you miss my kiss and the way that I hit from behind/
I miss how you would lick ya lips when you twistin a dime/
I miss bein able to grip ya behind, sit and sip on some wine/
layin on top of you, face to face with our fists intertwined/
let’s sign on the dotted line and reconnect what’s broken/
this time it’s all or nuthin, not a concern goes unspoken/
blunt smokin, can you remember “Us against the world”/
the next chapter’s unfurled, it’s everything after my girl/
I’m askin you to meet me halfway, I need you in a bad way/
let’s be strong on bad days and keep from fallin on the pathway...
^should have been a guest feature on ghostface's new album-
real talk-
peace Prophet, love this one-
Damn.......
u need to be recordin or ghostwriting or something
I don't ghostwrite, but most times I write for ghosts/
I reserve the right to boast to most when a mic is close/
my eyes is cloaked in smoke, but trust my mind is woke/
strong trees behind the lines I spoke, whether pine or oak/
bloke, every rhyme I've wrote is dope, like lines of coke/
the kind you quote on the grind wit dope inside ya coat/
if any rapper contend, I end they life wit a sniper's stroke/
so don't attend, I win every battle I'm in, despite the vote/
I'll slice ya throat wit a bar so sharp it'll carve thru bark/
when I impart my darts, you won't say shit like Harpo Marx/
I'm a sharp tooth, heartless shark that starves for narcs/
roamin in the oceans' largest, most uncharted darkest parts/
so if yo ark embarks toward my ports or gulfs, I'm goin off/
flowin off the top at those who scoff or whose flow is soft/
I'm Gorbachev in eighty-eight, I'll take ya state for taking's sake/
forcefeed you planks of snake from satan's plate while ya fate awaits...
....ooooh shit, that takes the cake....
^ some tight lines in that piece
master craftsmen for sho
Peace Prophet
My eyes close, time froze my soul like a sublime blindfold/
I undergo exposure of lies told on my own unkind road/
came from the cold caves to the place where my soul’s saved/
I’ve wrote plays since birth and the earth is my whole stage/
I don’t age, matured since the old days of Smith n Wesson/
cocaine and road rage, I was a sold slave to imperfection/
a livin lesson, a legend in my own rite, like a dim reflection/
of Christ on my cold plight, that’s why I spit aggression/
my soul’s cold, but snow white, until I get my pension/
to live in heaven for my whole life, into the fifth dimension/
in the presence of my cold wife, also my kids’ affection/
did I mention I was a lowlife, but bold like a interjection/
a slave sold at low price, owned twice by pigs inspection/
that’s where my road spliced, I had to pick which direction/
my selection was holy wealth, my soul and body’s health/
chose to be my godly self, now I can’t be nobody else...
For I am me - The one who flows to hold his soul at peace/
And I am he - The son whose known to roll his dro in Sweets/
And I was him - Whose gun he holds would blow at foes indeed/
I could’ve been - The young and bold who sold they soul to greed/
But I am me - The one who holds to Jason’s golden fleece/
When I was he - a bum who rode a vagrant’s road to Greece/
And would’ve been - Among the clones who play the roll of sheep/
But I will be - The one opposed to those who toast the beast...
For I am me - The one who flows to hold his soul at peace/
And I am he - The son whose known to roll his dro in Sweets/
And I was him - Whose gun he holds would blow at foes indeed/
I could’ve been - The young and bold who sold they soul to greed/
But I am me - The one who holds to Jason’s golden fleece/
When I was he - a bum who rode a vagrant’s road to Greece/
And would’ve been - Among the clones who play the roll of sheep/
But I will be - The one opposed to those who toast the beast...
that whole part was illness, mega props
To say your gifted isn't doing you justice.
One of the greatest wordsmiths I've seen.
This is a hard bar bazaar, the return of retarded art/
framed in Cardiers, the charred remains of a departed heart/
deported far away, onto the fareways of far away parts/
from project stairways to stargates, still the stargazer starves/
he stands on stilts and spits to stretch his arms to the stars/
armed to the teeth with bars that is raw, far above par/
carved on his forearm, he forewarns of harm like a vagrant czar/
he recalls an anxious call with which an ancient grave is marked/
it reads: "I came apart at a young age, my lungs craved/
clean air but knew that blunt haze would be there one day/
and some days went quicker with liquor to support my liver/
but after it passes just deliver my ashes to the Jordan River"/
alone I shiver at the thought of prophecies lost in translation/
brothas lost in train stations, mothers caught cocaine bassin/
jewels dropped into a truckstop drain basin, a safe-haven/
for a brazen maiden who turned her first trick to make payments/
to a pimp who got her into a crib and off the gray pavement/
made her feel like she ain't nameless, hair did and legs shaven/
but the pimp is just a kid wit his own history that's painstakin/
mama was enslaved to the heroin age, she died a aids patient/
all these taught me there's no such thing as people with prudence/
only evil and crudeness, narcissistic teachers and students/
greedy preachers reachin for loot, misreadin the blueprints/
bleachin the truth in ruthless pursuit of what power produces/
buildin towers to Zeuses, misleadin any coward who's clueless/
abusin they power to loosen a altar boy's collar, it's stupid/
they hollerin for tolerance, to err is human, to forgive divine/
that's exactly why in prison I was kickin molestors like they did it to one of mine...
My eyes close, time froze my soul like a sublime blindfold/
I undergo exposure of lies told on my own unkind road/
came from the cold caves to the place where my soul’s saved/
I’ve wrote plays since birth and the earth is my whole stage/
I don’t age, matured since the old days of Smith n Wesson/
cocaine and road rage, I was a sold slave to imperfection/
a livin lesson, a legend in my own rite, like a dim reflection/
of Christ on my cold plight, that’s why I spit aggression/
my soul’s cold, but snow white, until I get my pension/
to live in heaven for my whole life, into the fifth dimension/
in the presence of my cold wife, also my kids’ affection/
did I mention I was a lowlife, but bold like a interjection/
a slave sold at low price, owned twice by pigs inspection/
that’s where my road spliced, I had to pick which direction/
my selection was holy wealth, my soul and body’s health/
chose to be my godly self, now I can’t be nobody else...
For I am me - The one who flows to hold his soul at peace/
And I am he - The son whose known to roll his dro in Sweets/
And I was him - Whose gun he holds would blow at foes indeed/
I could’ve been - The young and bold who sold they soul to greed/
But I am me - The one who holds to Jason’s golden fleece/
When I was he - a bum who rode a vagrant’s road to Greece/
And would’ve been - Among the clones who play the roll of sheep/
But I will be - The one opposed to those who toast the beast...
EVERYBODY STOP WRITING UNTIL NEXT YEAR!!
Picasso murdered the whole forum!!
Photon Propulsion Shake Vision Convulsions/
Aura That Pulsate in My Chest Deep Like Oceans/
Speak With Golden Moments Floatin Beside Roses/
Carnations Burn In The Sand Whenever Man approaches/
Vandal Notions Shadow Description Slash Throats-When/
My Spiritual Combine Wit Flesh Im Past Ghostin/
Ash Omens Poet Who Rest in Black Clothin/
Nosferatu Wit Gospel Attack Ronin's/
Steps On HourGlasses Till The Path Broken/
Fangs Inject Venom In Viegns U Lay Frozen/
Grenade Motion-Shrapnel Scattered in Pain Dosage/
Chemically Create Sound & Exchange Potions/
I Bless Like Priest Wit Tha Grail When Slang Spoken...
"REQUIEM:RUDE AWAKENING" debut mixtape comin soon
picasso much love stay rippin shit i had 2 give my 2 cents,haha
100
Preciate the love. I'm trying to pick the pen back up....
I burst from the cervix, breakin forth from the birth canal/
unhurt, un-alert to my new locale, a blue earth that’s foul/
soon as they snip the umbilical, I spit scriptures that’s Biblical/
several songs from hymnals that would echo through citadels/
from the peaks of the Pamirs to the Pyrenees pinnacles/
Christian clerics were critical, but I was praised by the Seminoles/
I eluded the cynical who were true to the pursuit of the trivial/
the pitiful religious who considered the prodigious to be typical/
as an infant I spit hints of mathematics you won’t find in print/
every line was mint, you’d catch my glint if you didn’t squint/
years came and went, I learned to sprint when I saw police tint/
an early Verbal Kint, hellbent on gettin rent or doin a stint/
adolescence was my advent, the avenue was like a magnet/
I ran it savagely on the average, caught in the drugs’ dragnet/
my soul was stagnant as piss puddles in a project stairwell/
I didn’t fare well til I found out my words and beats paired well/
now it’s farewell to even excellent emcees, they in hindsight/
cuz when I rhyme right they get quite scared of my mind’s light/
every line’s tight, I roll top flight that’s bout as sticky as epoxy/
my chick is brown and foxy, I roll like yahtzee, my flow is nazi/
oops, I meant nasty, I’m the best, no question, so don’t ask me/
in my widebody Caddy, told my girl twelve just went past me/
so put the blunt down, we run round uptown and bust serves/
hit a Motel 6 amidst the rough curbs so I can run in and touch her/
she’s a nutmeg skin mistress, a young princess with almond eyes/
we on a chocolate high, sippin amaretto, twistin chocolate thai/
outside the motel window, you smell indo when you walkin by/
me and my misses sharin strawberry kisses in a vanilla sky/
beforehand I tell her she too cute in that Coogi and blue boots/
afterward she say I’m the truth and put it down like bruised fruit/
I’m the same in the bed as in the booth, I’m coming for the temple/
never off track or simple, raw facts, y'all cats is all wack and crippled/
scrawl raps on windows in winter to a rhythm of horse-claps and fiddles/
I spring back in summer, since some a y'all was soft as a nipple/
this is simple, I’ve written it for illiterates, to be rap of the year/
put this crack in ya ear til you fill a canyon with tears and abandon ya fears...
as an infant I spit hints of mathematics you won’t find in print
every line was mint
hahahaha.. too many ill daggers flying around in this verse P..
as usual..
I can't quote them all.. or I might as well quote the whole verse
peace homes.. keep that pen on standby
never off track or simple, raw facts, y'all cats is all wack and crippled/
scrawl raps on windows in winter to a rhythm of horse-claps and fiddles/
picasso was crazy
the best picture is GUERNICA