The Lost Rhyme

it would've been beautiful if we all celebrated
the birth of something big come on Journey With Me
boers kept us down for years
we deserve to shine
it should always be a carnival when one of us rise
me & my k*ff*rs always toast when one of us is in print
but ain't it funny how some b*tch*s hate to see us rise?
that they'll always bring you down when you're about to truimph
like this k*ff*r that i know who edits a tabloid
who suffered serious lacerations from the words that i spit
m*th*f*ck* took my d*ck from the back like a wh*r*
liked every jerk move i made without a rubber to shield
when it was all said & done he found a label for me
m*th*f*ck* come on show me some love
for the life of me can't comprehend how they put an idiot on top
k*ff*r the internet is there do your own research
don't try to appear educated by putting me down
still i rise pitiful hater cuz the streets love my sh*t/ now they tasting my vomit
stand @ a corner ask a question
poets ask 'who's that?'
try to refine your public standing by sucking d*cks of relics
k*ff*r please i'm bigger than you come Journey With Me

chorus; carry my heart on my sleeve & i'm ditching the case/ not that i am scared of ya b*tch but i want the last word

shouldn't have involved lawyers cuz i love him he's black
but what's black got to do with a snake in my house
i read the words of steve biko & i know your types
n*gg*s would call you 'oreo cookie'
i'll call you a f*gg*t
cuz you ain't man enough to stand for your sh*t in a court
i pay my own bills my lawyers put my faith in the system
they pay your legal bills they lawyers put your faith in they cash
i remain the one m*th*f*ck* who ever stood up to you
even though you don't publish me you still feel the heat
nine poetry journals differ with the words of a snitch
i grace reputable pages i'm still spitting my venom
you grace your own f*ck*d up spaces nobody knows what you saying
you think you what
dan brown
b*tchk*ff*r k*ff*r please

repeat chorus...


  1. If you cared enough to make it rhyme, the whole blogsphere would be lost in the flow. Good talent always goes to waste, God damn

  2. You breaking my heart dog


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