~Topic: The Beat/Original Song~
~Title: Untitled~
Martin Had a Dream...
Kendrick Had a Dream...
Adonis Have a Dream...
Starts @ .25 Sec.
Was never given nothin, had to fight for repercussions,
As I write...I'll shed light - while I repo this percussion,
re-construction of a verse. Yes Adonis will emerge,
Leaving Kendrick in a backstreet concussed beside a curb,
It's a beat... and she's mine, fuck a street and in-lines,
On my grind, eating Brie - and sipping fine wine,
You're from Compton? I'm not, never slept in cell blocks,
I don't slang drugs, just vernacular – I'm well off,
Tip your cap to this boss, High-hat snatch – Randy Moss,
I rap - I floss...You rap - I Pods.
I applause...
Your business dropping jaws...The broads...
These vixens - swooning for incision,
the diction is there mission as they lie in that position
No, I might not have a gimmick but I'll paint myself a cynic,
Van Goghing every sentence, making fortunes with out limits.
Peep the image - These tats... make me blacker,
White tee and black cap, now ain't that dapper
Hood raised and blood crazed - a nigga who truthfully...
Rhymed his way through the rock, from the drug to the jewelry.
This rap shit ain't nothin new to me...
Peep the real life...
......
A spic. A ghost write?
A man with two kids who show him love on most nights,
Twenty-six and so nice, donates words to AOB,
And votes thoroughly on images he reads,
Penmanship? Indeed - He's linguistically,
Not the brightest light in the sky – but he dreams to be...