Week 1: Adonis (0-0) vs. Mr. J (0-0) - MR. J WINS 3-2

Adonis · 12-13-2016, 09:22 PM

It’s Finally here, week one, welcome back
Fresh off six successful years in a flash
Most of which quite frankly, goddamned complex
Patterns and concepts, stories teetering conscious
We’ve gone chess, Cakes layered with tempo
Subtle phrase placed for innuendo
We’ve certainly had lows in this land
But let’s be honest, that’s better left dead… man
We’ve crowned our past champs
Now lets move on and clash hands…

…

He’s been weathered by time
Aged to perfection, a leathery rind
Still, he’s been doctoring rhymes
Placement that matters, patterns designed
Weaving webs whimsically that he’s gathered in mind
Making matter with lines, painting image with words
Fluid with air, each thought’s making cadence concur
Takes the scenic route down memory lane
Consecutive 2-12 seasons were just growing pain
Now a decade removed, he fought to be average
Rhyming savage with gastric is a stretch of a habit…
But A,B,A,B sounds like a parrot indeed
But then again pay homage, without it, where would he be?
But he’s of an era removed
Black Mamba, ready to hang up them boots
But not until he’s met one worthy of holding his urn
But fuck it J, these rookies can’t match….

For now, we’ll just let our shit burn
Puff, Puff, Puff, and then pass

12-13-2016, 09:22 PM	#2
Adonis Tsk Tsk Join Date: Feb 2013 Location: Beer Goggles Posts: 4,834 Battle Record: 36-34 Champed - Lime Green Poetry Association - NFL Pick'em 2016-17 Rep Power: 9946449	It’s Finally here, week one, welcome back Fresh off six successful years in a flash Most of which quite frankly, goddamned complex Patterns and concepts, stories teetering conscious We’ve gone chess, Cakes layered with tempo Subtle phrase placed for innuendo We’ve certainly had lows in this land But let’s be honest, that’s better left dead… man We’ve crowned our past champs Now lets move on and clash hands… … He’s been weathered by time Aged to perfection, a leathery rind Still, he’s been doctoring rhymes Placement that matters, patterns designed Weaving webs whimsically that he’s gathered in mind Making matter with lines, painting image with words Fluid with air, each thought’s making cadence concur Takes the scenic route down memory lane Consecutive 2-12 seasons were just growing pain Now a decade removed, he fought to be average Rhyming savage with gastric is a stretch of a habit… But A,B,A,B sounds like a parrot indeed But then again pay homage, without it, where would he be? But he’s of an era removed Black Mamba, ready to hang up them boots But not until he’s met one worthy of holding his urn But fuck it J, these rookies can’t match…. For now, we’ll just let our shit burn Puff, Puff, Puff, and then pass __________________ I'm tryna fuck like A-don-is TUPAC SHAKUR Last edited by Adonis; 12-16-2016 at 09:35 PM.