THE OPEN MIC CYPHER

corleone · 09-28-2020, 02:12 AM

thoughts of a wise warrior, poetically spilled,
genetically build, to war with my enemies still//
.. just, for my reasons to kill,
hand still, on my gun in case these niggas' wanna test foreal//
the golden child.. smoke sess to eliminate my stress and chill,
the oldest owl, wisdom check those incorrect and ill,
I check niggas on a daily.. who aint real, and can't build,
who don't seek the earth, get merked on any plain field//
knowledge is power, as we devour the hour for top dollars,
the block hot.. I stay eating and beast like a rottweiler//
.. you not hot, I drop logic like a top scholar,
and recite scriptures that date back to years before-allah//
I'm well known.. on any jail tone, and fly swatta,
you well known.. like niggas who get their back blown proper//
you not in my league, I'll slaughter your team in army fatigues,
and bombard your raps in every cypher between//
you hyper then insulin, the mic isn't fit for him.. get rid of him,
you need to pipe down, your sugar levels might need some transitioning//
box his head in, leave him shaking like he hooked on riddlin',
the kid sick.. I'm too ill for pills or medicine//
.. I'm a war veteran, trained to kill better men,
Insane, but always remain to be better than,-
any civilian or pedestrian, or even resident,
from any tenement, U.S citizen, to the president//
I should be considered hazardous upon development,
or illegal, like mexicans living in different settlements//
beyond impressive.. a perfectionist, my lyrical skill is testament,
to all emcees and music influenced methodist//

09-28-2020, 02:12 AM	#1
corleone Shakespearian Dialect Join Date: Mar 2020 Location: Brooklyn, NY --> Allentown, PA Posts: 1,022 Battle Record: 0-3 Rep Power: 0	thoughts of a wise warrior, poetically spilled, genetically build, to war with my enemies still// .. just, for my reasons to kill, hand still, on my gun in case these niggas' wanna test foreal// the golden child.. smoke sess to eliminate my stress and chill, the oldest owl, wisdom check those incorrect and ill, I check niggas on a daily.. who aint real, and can't build, who don't seek the earth, get merked on any plain field// knowledge is power, as we devour the hour for top dollars, the block hot.. I stay eating and beast like a rottweiler// .. you not hot, I drop logic like a top scholar, and recite scriptures that date back to years before-allah// I'm well known.. on any jail tone, and fly swatta, you well known.. like niggas who get their back blown proper// you not in my league, I'll slaughter your team in army fatigues, and bombard your raps in every cypher between// you hyper then insulin, the mic isn't fit for him.. get rid of him, you need to pipe down, your sugar levels might need some transitioning// box his head in, leave him shaking like he hooked on riddlin', the kid sick.. I'm too ill for pills or medicine// .. I'm a war veteran, trained to kill better men, Insane, but always remain to be better than,- any civilian or pedestrian, or even resident, from any tenement, U.S citizen, to the president// I should be considered hazardous upon development, or illegal, like mexicans living in different settlements// beyond impressive.. a perfectionist, my lyrical skill is testament, to all emcees and music influenced methodist// __________________