Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jan 2021
Shoot my arrows of a funky a tip cold brews I sip strip
Titles from rival yo its survival of the fittest the winningest  
Hard for ya digest the best is yet to come from the slums
Of that wicked Houston you know the rockets shooting
Lootin' record pockets with the black market watch us stock it
Underground sounds htown ya know homie it's going down
Slowed up keep the syrup leaning in my cup so let me interrupt
The musical stations with no hesitating old school
Tasting flavors yall still.wasting money no time chasing
Flows been in me since I was a baby treat it like my lady
Golden era emcee spread my trees for every family
Gangstas hustlers thugsters to the teenage jugglers
I'm touching ya with the heat for the streets it's so sweet
Light the swishers to my mouth greet smokes a fleet
I'm so neat I'm so cool make the average hater drool
Know I'm hear to rule slick rick mentality with the jewels
Kangol hat pistols dipped in black plus a stainless steel bat
What's that haps curly naps this a brother that wont nap
Ya dead wrong in the club getting my bounce on
So sing along if ya know the words of the songs
Hit em like the chi-lites to the manhattans chatting
Raw macking smacking the calmest girls roudy in the back end
See her twitching caught my eyes devils temps is dripping
All over me plea the fifth I'm in insanity the man in me
Cant shake the fleas dog I am there I am again against rams
Dodge the bullet who can pull it off like this brother others
Try to come close but cant match this butter to toast
Melt tracks stain out the competition with my lyrical Ajax
As a matter of fact yall just keep listening times whistling
Revelation tune into the stations staring the son masons
7th star glory road signs leak with energy from the divine
Check it this ain't for ****** specs this for the tape decks
Beats I wreck keep these lines in check cold threat
Microphone I hold by own skull with a fiery throne shape clones
What is this brother getting at? Imagine that me
Falling off of the map relapse off of ya mental collapse  
Raps drawn by me in the form of history philosophy
Knowledge of the rhythm in ya grove to the immortal system
I'm hear to stay so let me play no loose words on the air play
Talk that **** that gutta gutta **** invoke fear from the darkest pits
Capernick ice piks fist in the air is a truth or another dare
As I stare into the state of panic ******* it critics
Dont understand it take a shot of whiskey make it a double
I thought we had a free state of mind only to get me in trouble


Got dj quik backing it up with the chop no vocals on the cut
They say what the **** is going on this for ladies n gents grown
Mature establishments immature wanna have it stab it
They cant cuz they bleeding from the old school seasoning
Beats this that **** ya that makes for a rewind or a repeat complete
Once my vocals meet cant stop going off of the beat
Man hold up this is a freestyle gotta go wild gotta go hard
On the charge like Charles Barkaley and all yall barking at me
But won't bite a G me the MC far from a square hit the snare
So I can let yall compare feel this through ya souls atmosphere
Hear me clear eyes bugged like headlights to a deer
Smear any beat I hop on stay strong this is everlasting long
Sound the gong let the battle begin see an eternal witnessing
Don't need the light or a shine to see a diminishing  finished within
Once the realize the damage is settled in happy feeling
Begins a maze your temple is grazed yo I'm never amazed
Measures drastics true natur-al far from a plastic minds elastic
In many forms wipe a nation without the bombs caress  
The symphony  it's so me smoothly spitting on the LP
No delays when I write what i say triggers ricochet
Bounce off like Bobby Boshay oh yeah it's another doomsday
So peep my visions incisions made with out the cut
Deeper than the souls of a gut call me mister King Tut
On a gangsta strut back to streets taking back my seat
With no chair throw ya hands in the air if ya a true player
Oh yeah I told em 2 decades ago I would rock the shows Cristo
Monte blunts smoke slow cash grows see flint of a haters sparkle
I charcoal beef til its obsolete without the heat
So watch ya where ya set ya feet the tools I use is antique
Mystery creek flows is rising everyday no disguising
Wising up over my opponent's yo tell me how ya want it
29 minutes of a freestyle stay wild turn critics wows to smile
Frowns cant even be form cuz you're in the edge of the storm
Calm as I sit in the eye no need to lie as I multiply third eye stys
Craniums shaking earthquake rhymes got em breaking staking
Every thing I touch come through with the cobra clutch
It's the black Dutch ruthless with the grit I hold mold any
Opposition  listen suckas talking bad but ain't stenciling
Nothing bad words make em react to the verbs check the nerves
Ya titles is wrecked im here to collect all dues an aspects
Bloodline of King Yashayah
Written by
Bloodline of King Yashayah  26/M/Hell on Earth Since Birth
(26/M/Hell on Earth Since Birth)   
93
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems