SvW 'Picture Frame' Cypher

[Nigma]

It goes without saying this is quite long piece. Read a verse or two, read it all, s'all gravy. We're just tellin our story.

Spoken vs Written
KICH-ZYGOTE-UNIQUE-BROB-ENIGMA

-KICH
Continuous notion of broken emotions
Running through the motions, imposing my will upon Holy poems
Open up ya mind to the awoken beast lurking these streets simply hoping
that a purpose can meet.
But alas he's broken.
Corrosion corrupting the interwoven devotion that he has for spoken word
Losing any hope to be heard...
But his will was potent and important, grinding through headaches that he coped with
Hoping that popping Ibuprofen would numb the pain just for the moment.
From the days of Oxytocin to oxymorons on spoken vs written, smitten with the art of rhyming
Parents were sickened from the first track that they listened to
"You missing school?" Daddy ain't think that this was cool.
A principal, and his principles ain't embracing the art and dedication it takes to make something amazing
Instead he tried putting music on probation...
A prohibition and a broken vision, is this a home or prison?
When I hold this pen is it a sin? 'Nd when I'm spittin' is the devil slowly grinning?
Or is the Holy winning?...
Now tell me, is a man worth his weight in glory when he rapes the horny minds of the youth?
Or is that just the way the game is forming?
Whoring over chains and whips, ain't it slick?
Slavery's still run with a raging fist
They dangling cars and ice that make you want to either work steal or pay for it
Think a minute than tell me what you make of it
The industry preaching material bigotry and the will in me ain't willfully stopping
Till Radio Frequencies start steering sees from Ignorance's Epitome.


-Zygote
You have the weakest persona,
Up against a supreme Ayatollah that leaves opponents meeting Jehovah,
You're fighting a virus that gets deep in your stroma, leave you asleep in a coma,
Really it's over, I purge motherfuckers like eating a heap of granola with bulimia nervosa,
Open the wound and apply cleaner ammonia, my rhymes intertwined like a genus of cobra,
If someone said you're good that must be a misnomer.
I'm a homosapien you're just a homo-acting, little midget your photo-caption should say Frodo Baggins,
You're facing down a Komodo dragon; with the same parts as a whale shark - consume opponents like a shoal of plankton,
You simply froze, inaction, like staring at a ghostly phantom,
Sometimes I just explode at random and throw a tantrum, do not face me is the oldest maxim,
You won't even know what happened, get hit with a proton cannon that splatters protoplasm,
Make you feel like all hopes abandoned.
The thin line between genius and madness, if you get the reference then you are fit to compete with the deepest combatants,
It was a sad recent advancement, when SvW pulled the plug on its breathing attachment,
But no one's feeling the absence, it continues through those who are still decently active.

WE DA BEST!

-Mr. UnIque
Gravities a bitch since day one it's forced me to hit the pavement
I could live 1000 lives n never spit the same shit
It could be written in plain English but Anglo Saxons would never get the statement
They call me a dick head to try to grip my greatness
I don't need the spotlight it needs me
There's blood in the water, it's time for feeding
Hip Hops my bitch without me she's a weakling
I wifed her just so she could wear out her beatings
Enough of the introduction I'm feeling greedy
The time is right, the stage is set
Someone's gonna die tonight so place ya bets
The Machines been broken down the Rage is Next
Confused faggots lining up to change they sex
Think'n they equal but no Klan has ever tried to hang they necks
Controversy is King, 911 = inside job so bitch save ya breath
This is only the begging, trust me ya can't tame the text
I'm the King of this, my crowns made of platinum
I was formed in a dream, born a champion
Retirement? Aint ever happen'n!
I speak in circles around these squares, trust me it's no accident
Picture perfect cuz my scriptures' worded immaculate…
P.S. I'm jobless but I have no lack in vision
So fuck neone who says be'n honest is a whack decision
My flow's a masterful instrument it never lacks precision
I'm the best emcee, it's destiny that I ash tradition
Be'n the best there ever was period is this bastards mission
N I wont stop till ya all are forced to grab a listen!
(THINK ABOUT IT)


-Brob
Fuck Harry Potter and Hogwarts, I'd rather fuck Emma Watson
Watch her jetski on my jetsam then float free on my flotsam
And god bless those lost to the bombs in Boston
And let our thoughts be in the hearts of those moms who lost ‘em
With OJ, zits and Vader on your rostrum I guess your theme was blackheads
So let me twist this Enigma on its head and wrap it in a riddle of racked threads
Leave all you smackheads looking like crackbread trapped in hacked dreads
Or like Lady Macbeth's absurd backspread after the third act's read
Cuz Brob's back from the dead, and ready to make an entrance
Serving a death sentence to pretend fakers with vengeance
With a tendency to tread on all toes in the front rows of attendance
And suspend all animation til the perfect verdict is senseless
This verse is the worst test and best guess of your denseness
And if that didn't register then I guess Spoken's defenceless
Battered, broken and bruised, abused and left stricken
An open-door policy, just one click and you're let in
A time-bomb ticking, ain't nobody twigging?
It's only as I hear the pin drop I hear the ears pricking
Fingers that once took a good licking are now ready to kick-in
And blow your mind all over whatever room you now sit in
From the home of fried chicken to a bona fide Britain
My writtens go over more domes than combs when I'm spittin
The blue touchpaper is lit on which the blueprint was writ
And that little diminishing bit reflects the relinquishing shit that I give
Never forget or forgive, my mind's a net full of sieves
Forever the forgotten fugitive in this rotten borough we live..


-Enigma
Shit, the world we live? In danger?
This the age of the prince of anger
Heat he spits gives him the lips of Vader
Dipped in flame embracing the hidden,
Sacred gift of Satan, spit a liquid chain
Of viscous hatred that switch terrain
And change a mountain cliff to crater
Wish to live in shade? My clique will take ya
Just grip a dagger, slit a vein
And let it drip on the enlistment paper
If the litmus fades, your sins are great
Exchange your grin for fangs,
If it didn't change you didnt make it, must be pissed,
Just tryin to live ya life in the midst of greatness
When simply stated, your shit is basic
Next to mine ya kinda look like less lines than printer pages
Chamber OJ Simpson traits and in this rage
DEFCON 6 is staged, level of sickness: Plauge
Each writer stays touching your chest until your nipples chafe
We're like the players making Quiddich famous
Rip through paper with a wizards cadence
Pop these bitches brains in like a witches face zits
Precision aim, it's click and bang
Could spray from hip and pick off distant neighbors
Scribble bars that switch and change into written cages
The scripts contain your wits in chains till rhythms fading
I advise the rich and famous to admit to blame
It's great, their pride takes hits of shame when shaken, like the dicks of Asians
We could do this shit for days, okay I'm gonna click on save
Encase this shit within a picture frame to restrain from the image fading





fin