I used to be the kid, feeling fluttered, off me guts undecided in the gutter, now i kinda switched, im like the kid on the beach chasing gangas just loving summer, feeling what I wanna, no longer gotta suffer from others with there persona, Ima do it, an get it done just like I told ya, my words be like the bullets, an my mouths a revolver, my music comes with instincts, i was born a lyric solver, words come to my head like a bullet to a soldier, fighting at war just owning his zone hard, plus I mix up this real stuff just to let people no that, oneday il be like the best kid to rap with the pros blood, my beats be like sick i let my cautionse, speak for the moment, of everything that leads to a flow With, with a punchline that will never leave show biz, i got the sorta talent that will make ya take note to, what i lay down when I playback my vocals, the reason to be scared is im like the kid that was hopeless, unless i start a protest so us undergrounds come locals, just approach it, get noticed when we get to the top wel be famous just like toast is, or andy an hamish on a road trip, thats the games myth of living the high life like the matrix, its a bit crazy but lately i been craving mad lines that can not be replaced quick, when i get to basics i like to ace it , im the type to put ya in a state where ya have to stay focusd, if not ul be left with the potion of progress totally unprocessed without that little additive it wont get so potent like a deep dark ocean full of unfocusd emotions its prevoking til ya notice the nonsense that explodes it sometime soon il be sponsered for these put together responses that come with love from my brain when prompted i love a touchy flow it makes me think above the bottom when im on top this life is non stop its like Im riding on a rap train amongst this rap game rapping ryhmes for my comfort now this aint bad mate I like to rap hey cause when I get to spitting its like a fistful of Ashkay but thats not what each an every individual needs to have a mad day i see myself at a different stage than all you bad fakes other people publish ya lyrics an you just have to read an say whats displayed shame where im the Typa kid thats writes a rap to express pain an collapse all that wak crap that gets you down some days Im going to reach the day where I turn the page an find my fame wrapped up as a gift i might just add it to my lethal list of hip hop gifts an pull it out when I need to wish for my name to exist in a mad place i got faith in myself to make a living outta rapping straight feelings all mixed up in packaged crates to make money off rap in this day an age is the way to home base I used to be the kid feeling fluttered off me guts undecided in the gutter I kinda switched now Im like the kid on the beach chasing gangas just loving summer soon to be number one in my diploma of what i call a hip hop coma
Posted on: Tue, 04 Mar 2014 06:39:06 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015