hiphop verses

bust your sixteen lines...

(no subject)
i ressurect the sicamore flow call me sage
cuz im more sicker than eminem was at my age
the rap game is word play plus your image
and your image is a fiction people think that you livin
when you spittin what you written just to get some attention
just to get em to listen, just to give em a vision
i invented a never ending engine of energy
rippin tendons with a spinnin whirlwind of injury
beneath assymetry i found a sea of synergy
planted a seed so they could finally see infinity
and monumentally defeated em mentally
or turned a key in the doors of perception and set em free
in a deep freeze the speed of the molecules cease to recieve
even anymore negative degrees
my souls heat is like an oven
thundering combustion
burning up the universe churnin somethin from nothin
yall blow more than a thousand mouth's suckin
fucking each others egos in the anus
debating whos the greatest
and where your rank is
see what i thank is
i never heard more truth per verse than when i spit
and its perverse you think you sick cuz you impressing idiots
you can judge my judgements, but all i'm stating is facts
the radios the proof
you ain't gotta be the truth to rap
and you ain't ever said a verse that's as honest as that
and i ain't hatin on the fact that you caking
i hate that you've mistaken a paycheck for greatness

"Heroin" Fix

Charity case, its replaced your emotions. . . 

plug into the picture -- compared to religious scripture
but covered up quick because he really hit her
softest hands when you're with your new "heroin" fix
only problems she can't solve take the form of his fists
and she don't care where they stick, already carries that twitch
but it's slowly unrolling with each and every kiss
so he kisses her more -- let's explore limitations
stretch your neck till you sweat, girl, just vent that frustration
because he knows you've been waiting and not in the least bit degrading
he grabs hold of your toes and gives you what you've been craving
Lip to hip type of saving, as close as you'll get to praying
breathing rapid, just happened to catch what he's saying . . . 
lovely words but they're fading as he asks if you're staying
you hear the word "no" but the options are weighing 
so arms and legs shaking, you curl up like his plaything 
but the difference is this time its not something you're faking

(no subject)
i ressurect the sicamore flow call me sage
cuz im more sicker than eminem was at my age
the rap game is word play plus your image
and your image is a fiction people think that you livin
when you spittin what you written just to get some attention
just to get em to listen, just to give em a vision
i invented a never ending engine of energy
rippin tendons with a spinnin whirlwind of injury
beneath assymetry i found a sea of synergy
gave em a key so they could see infinity
and monumentally defeated em mentally
or planted a seed makin em finally free
i see pieces of a scene in cascading facades
fall before the fading never aging face of a god
i saw the snake in your heart makin you fake that you hard
I'm great with a spark i start an earthquake in a star
shaking the top of the rooftops I doom droppped bombs
stompin along on a long walk in a dew drop dawn
I saw a thief eatin the souls of a seamstress
and a legion of demons speakin diseased english
freaks drinkin absinthe tea tweakin, seein shit
then blacked out, laughed out loud, and passed out.

(no subject)
To the Hooded but Known. Sage Sorrow.

When I penetrate the paper with pen ink im stressing
I reverberate in sync with the message that I represent
Like an image is an echo of the vestige of the essence of the phantom abstraction
of the metaphor’s presence
Meaning meaning is an imprint I invent
Meaning I imprinted in a page and twist the image like kick flips
My mental is monunmentallly demented
Piercing the core as a bore into the visions I live with
Soulful wise your eyes blind like sulfur fire to the unjust
Ever son slain hooded means we’re coming undone
And if that shit’s right then I’m sorry that I’m wrong to think its not right
To sacrifice a life and keep the law that lead the sacrifice
I never acted right, I lost my voice and lost the act to write
I gave up this rap shit whether from envy or a lack of spite
But science is a truth for even lost eyes to see
And I’m asking why the lost feeling the loss more than the care free
Pain and oppression and scars make poor lessons
Turn to repression fueling the direction of aggression
But even a blind eye with fish scale hate can see the shit
We’ve lost society when our losses become statistics
This is vidid non fiction
Cops walkin with killers of children
Trying to justify a law that justifies the killing.

A Quick Reflection
Every Surviving Light is Artificial
In the late nineties I got fed by serious heads
Who spit the history of rap with clarity on the web
And I read thinking this was wisdom, even misspelled
I went from baggy jeans to khakis when Slug did on Felt
I dealt with that alienation like every middle class kid
And felt real as fuck calling Eminem's shit a classic
The white kids, can't tell what's a joke n what's serious
But I got serious props freestylin' in Fifth Period
A sick period of my life when rappers kicked the mold in
But It's gone from poser thug to fashion model to Nickelodeon
Like what the New Kids used to be, Tiger Beat magazine
How much knowledge can you kick when you're lookin fifteen
Big screen muggin, fuckin digital albums got no shelf life
Drake can't even quite look pleased with himself right
But the ideas I was chasin' never were as real as perceived
What I remember's what I felt during the time I believed

(no subject)
I eat lyrical amateurs like hannibal
I'm even eatin other cannibals
an animal
eatin cracker rappers like animal crackers out the wrapper
never chippin enamel
no broke fillins
i'm only full when I'm not longer broke
if killing is a sick joke
i'm spitting aids into a slit throat
and laughing
like the joker gettin backhanded from batman
hatching another master plan to mash the planet up with more damage

(no subject)
insane the sage wept
in septs and days kept
infections of pain felt
like fangs or flesh meltin
except his health kept him
in sepsis til he held his
breath to break the pressure
his hell just never lessened
often he's compelled with
thoughts of suicide
inside he would deny it
and sigh
he'd try to fight it inside
but couldn't hide it with pride
he drew along a wrist with a blade
beneath a shade
he opened a long vein
and felt the pain go away
his blood wormed along a page
warm and solid in spray
and formed the words you hear today
let us solemnly pray…

everything on a scale of proportion is distorted
relationships horded for meanings become aborted
I twist my brain stretch the membrane become contorted
Inside a vortex of sordid morbid disorder.
Pull away or face your fate like insects
inspect the septic subtext in a binary set
interecepted in a sect in the cerebral cortex
but subconsciousness is an ethereal guest
like a feeling of always needing to second guess

Pics or GTFO: The Verse
Every Surviving Light is Artificial
Here’s another song about the modern world
It’s called
“Pics, or Get the Fuck Out”

It’s time to argue the definition of what’s actually an essence
Cause it’s easier than doing anything, that’d be acceptance
And if it did get done, how do we sum it up in neat lessons?
And if it really got done, where’s the photographic evidence
It goes F-Stop, stopwatch, watchdogs pay for commercials
Certified to decide which conversations are controversial
What’s creative, innovative, made of wisdom, true vision
Even tho what’s innovative’s subject to historical revision
I got no time for this shit except all the time I been wasting
On the bright light of heaven and the television it’s encased in
That’s right, I’m backspacing any possible ambiguity
And turning this into a moralistic verse about media immunity
I’ll take any opportunity to say whatever possibly pleases
The community cause it’s whatever we all already agree with
There’s creases in the fetus and angelic's just an aesthetic
But I believe in something I just can’t seem to express it

That’s another verse about the modern world
That I can’t post because of my slow-ass ancient computer
2011, y’all
Another verse for the modern world
To ignore

Guilty as Charged (dumb shit, screwin around...)
Every Surviving Light is Artificial
I'm strong like a missle, yo
Thick like a thistle, yo
Raw like 80s punk band Throbbing Gristle, yo
Hangin out over y'alls heads like mistletoe
Make a phat-ass splash like Bam Bam Bigelow
Ya bitches know I'm versatile like Cicero
I been dope awhile, but now it's official, tho
I riddle those little minds with my spittle
Packing more text up in mine than a Kindle
I get deep like cuts, you're sweet like a single
Keep it tight like a spindle, y'all fall off like shingles
It's a simple equation, I'm blazin amazin shit
You're as soft as the part of your pen you erasin with
Cause even you know what you write ain't worth keepin
I put in work and you ain't even worth my per diem
I'm guilty, I mass murdered rappers outta spite
I'm guilty, started these wildfires with my mic
I'm guilty, I provoke internet trolls to argue
I'm guilty, I cast Larry the Cable Guy in Cars 2
I'm guilty, I made out with your Mom's wrinkly ass
I'm guilty, I kept convincing LeBron to pass
I'm guilty, at the market, break an egg in each carton
I'm guilty, Jesus Christ, *I* killed Rosie Larsen

That's it
It's over
You don't like it?
Write your own, homes.

Strictly 4 my Haterz lol
haters got lost so i found em at any cost
bots on a window sill still runnin on Dos
you break bread but you cant eat crumbs
so i shit money for you an call it lump sums
im blunt so i dont use the edge on the hunt
you grunt working like its that time of the month
trying to steal bases on my girl when i bunt
talk about how you floss with gingivitis on the gum
but i run this town so i never jog in your smog
haters motivate me so i update em like a blog
trying to block me but she jump off like a frog
my lyrics move her yours are stuck in an ipod dock


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