Lucid.

[Zen]

Damn.

A little twisted dribbling acidic acid to this pad. Linguistics unmatched. Spittin' image of a cryptic spaz with his liver attached to written raps like it's my Siamese twin. Bleed each line from my pen as I hit the weed in the pipe again and sit back with wicked women sittin' in my lap. Stick my dick in their snatch til I bust my venom on their ass. Don't rinse it off. I make her friend lick it off and spit it down her throat.

Just a sicko out in the cold without a coat sniffin' pounds of coke while whippin' thousands of locs. Vision's clouded with smoke putting doubt in your hope. I'm about to blow.

Oh no.

This bastard spits fast til you spin back trapped in whip lash. Zen's strapped blastin' ten gats at ya chinstrap. Sit, fags. The Boss is back with intent to smash your bitch ass with writtens mashed to snap your synapses with passion within that laughs at wicked paths. I'm the master. You wish that you bastards mattered. Go and get you a ladder. I told you I'm mental. A symbol of simple laughter in the middle of last/first. Little extravagant fiddilin' with my cash purse. Silk pillows slick as my black shirt. Pistol blasts in spurts. Sickest ill flow since rap's birth.

God damn, what if that was my last words? Sittin' my ass in the dirt casket maskin' my fractures. Weren't the best person alive. Hurtin', Mr. Surgeon let you survive. So I spring back an addict. Let's recap. I'm a savage bastard c-sect grabbin' deep breaths.

Snap ya weak necks.

I punch Mona Lisa in the cunt to finish the painting. Writtens laid clean but spit it in a day dream spinnin' in waves. Green lives in your brain. Speak, sneak in through breaks to bleed the truth inside a piece of mu - sic. Fuckin' nuisance bumpin' blues hits. Love it. I'm Lucid. Up in a room lit with candles on the mantle. Wearin' sandals.Make you blush. Suck your cunt til you do splits. Brush my teeth, then on to a new bitch. Deuces. I'm in a rush.

Some fools wish they were up in a cool whip as lucky as Bu is but buddy you're lucky I let you fools live. Go back to your pastor running because what you're after is actually something possessed by the crafter of rappin'. Savagery tapped in a human body abusin' economies; revolutionary spewin' knowledge to get loose from bondage. Radical. The Master. Solutions flow through the pastures and out to the humans. So, it's a matter within you, you know?

Clothes tattered. Fro's matted. Smoke gathers. Marshall the Flow that broke Saturn. I suppose you al - most had it. Adieu, folks.

[dead man]

let me preface by saying i am not, nor have i ever been partial to reading run-on paragraph verses. i can respect the prose but its just not my personal preference.

Silk pillows slick as my black shirt.

punch Mona Lisa in the cunt to finish the painting.

Make you blush. Suck your cunt til you do splits. Brush my teeth, then on to a new bitch. Deuces. I'm in a rush.

last little tidbit was nicely paced as well.

all in all - this was a cool bit of fun. felt like an actual freestyle you would get faced with the homies and spit, brings back fond memories actually

that being said this structure is clearly not natural to you. the main thing that irked me about your usage of the prose was how inorganic it felt. a little too abrupt in places and threw your rhythm off for me. I'm sure others will disagree

hope to see another installment soon,

thanks

1

[Split]

Idk what you're talking about. I liked the spinning in waves section.

I feel like your sentences ran on way too much and often for no reason. I also don't think your style works well with paragraphs, I agree with dead man. Or maybe, your style just works a lot better in shortbar

You should take a couple pieces and practice saying as much as you can in as few words as possible. Maybe try not using a rhyme more than two or three times.


Maybe make your schemes a little less binary.

This sort of free write is good for you tho

Keep elevating

[Zen]

Appreciate the feed. I use no way as way.

[Certain]

Verses such as this one are difficult to critique. This was OK. It never blew my mind, but it functioned as braggadocio well enough to hold my attention. This is the section I liked most, by far:

Little extravagant fiddilin' with my cash purse. Silk pillows slick as my black shirt. Pistol blasts in spurts.

The reason that stood out was for the more specific type of bragging. In that moment, it reminded me a little of Action Bronson's good work. Some of this was vile just to be vile, and I didn't like that as much.

[Mael]

Intentional hokum. Welcome to the club. This was pretty cool, the flow was excessive due to the length of your lines.

punch Mona Lisa in the cunt to finish the painting.

lolwut..

symbol of simple laughter in the middle of last/first. Little extravagant fiddilin' with my cash purse. Silk pillows slick as my black shirt. Pistol blasts in spurts.

Nice.

As most of these guys said, the structure was a bit off at times. Standard format works better for most of us, unless you're Void.

Good read, mate.