Back when Snoop Lion was Snoop d o double g
 

I've got a suburban like stare. That perverted type. Player
in his dad's suburban, searching for twerking white squares.
My serving size scares little Betty bulimic.
I'm Freddy emceeing. Better believe it when I use this machete to cleave with.
Steady diseasing the thesis with clever secretions
from my head. There's no demons screaming. Heavy I'm breathing
in your receiver. Hey, Heather, you see this? I shred your sweater to pieces
with this wood chipper. It looks different than Steve Buscemi's.
You dopes interested in Heaven won't for a second off
-er a second thought to questions I never stop
pressing. It's evident how depressing it's gotten.
I keep checking the clock. Am I really still stressing to watch
my efforts? It's not like I'm in the running for any medals. I've got
medicine drops to administer. Dinner to pepper and chop.
In my head, on the job of letters. I jot
just to steady the constant levee of thoughts
pouring over the ledge of my noggin. And often
it's not legible. Lost it, but still set at the coffee
table and wrangle consonants. Angle assonance,
saying common shit, like, 'I bodied it!' just so the audience
can applaud and get what I'm offering.
Pandering manuscripts. I hammer the handles, just
so amateurs are secure and understand there's a landing strip
we're landing in. Quick, call the ambulance, I'm panicking.
There's a mannequin Santa taking all my Ambien.
I went to Vegas on a family trip and got naked with my Nana, then
raped both my Auntie's with cancer sticks.
I'm ripping the corset at the corners. I'm fixing to force this
smorgasbord of whore to satisfy my hunger pains.
Hunger ain't a game, Jennifer Lawrence. I'll stuff my face
with any of your tits. Won't be skinny no more, if
I dust my plate of all your cunt. Amazed. Your clit is enormous.
My dick is just gorging. 30 minutes of porking
this piggy. Then snorted off her stomach. Drank
out her belly button. She got peanut butter and jelly stuffing.
My phone only rings when someone's trying to sell me something.
I've got no one to talk to, so I keep 'em on the phone as long as possible.
Tell 'em that my girl thinks thongs are optional. That I need to work out my abdominal.
That my snowman's abominable.
Better not fucking tell, slut. I'll get that muzzle weld shut.
Better clutch that held tongue or I'm gonna sell lungs
so you can't run or yell. Plug that busted well. Must
I trouble Ben Stiller for a warm glass of shut the hell up,
for you to hush and quell, dunce? For real, your voice is just raking
across four chalk boards. Fuck, go embroider a blanket.
Roll a joint, or get naked. Cook me some bacon.

dope as fuck with the scheming and all

didn't like the Steve Buschemi line, thought the Steve rhyme was off slightly, don't like the use of 'gotten' ever, surburban you used twice close together which i'm never keen on doing, these are just me being oicky though

nice key bruh

Four lines in and it's leagues ahead of ill nika's wack stuff. Go figure.

the less serious tone is very soothing for the second half. could feel the depression kept at bay. Or at least under any type of influence.

Maybe it was purely influenced. Hm. Nice

enjambment makes my dick hard.

Your flow is better than anyone else's here. Your syllables run smooth, and you correct for proper annunciation. You even pull off, as oXuS, notes, enjambment, which is difficult in text form.

But why does Freddy have machetes? His fingers are blades.

I had to look up enjambment. It's a lot easier to spot when I don't write in paragraphs. I hate that people, whether negatively or positively, see it as any big deal to write in 'paragraphs'. The style is much more fluid. Dropping down makes most people too structured. They forget they don't HAVE to end the thought there. Shruuuuugs.

I love that you point out logistic mistakes in my verses, it let's me know that when I do actually put forth the effort to have it make sense that someone will notice.

ill nika isn't the brightest crayon.

Thanks for noticing me.

Enjambment exists in paragraph format, too. I don't mind either way. The words are what's important.

The next time you write something not braggadocio and want to make it a collab, you should hit me up. I can't hang on these things, though.

We could do prose, too.

i wouldn't say it's difficult in text form. i mean i use it?! but i think i always have, though.

dull certainly does it well, particularly in terms of rhyme placement/emphasis. and yea this verse was good.

I don't think it's difficult. Most people are just under the impression (partly due to battling) that bars need to conclude the thought.

I'll definitely get at you (lol) @Certain.

Amazing. Thanks for the feed too. This joint was the illest shit (I've read) up here in a while. Keep droppin.

Sucked. Didn't like most of it, but the lines I did like far superseded anything you just yawned and punched your lil keyboardz with.

I keep checking the clock. Am I really still stressing to watch
hunger games
sell me something
betty bulimic