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Jordan Hudson Jun 2019
Ya they can talk with the windows down
Ya look around, now they a crowd
Ya now the mans gonna talk out loud
Ya now the town gonna hear the sounds
The guns firing and the gangsta roar
The mafia just robbed that small store
Now the police are dying for more
Their legs sore and falling to the floor
Gangsta crime and the bad gangsta rhyme
Now the gangstas running from the time
Can't keep up with the long growing list
Gang fights are hurting their brittle fists
Strolling dark alleys and making way
The money and cash makes them all stay
Mafia talk (etc.)
Guns in the hand, stash in the back
Runs on the land, cash in the bag
Running everyday, running late
I'm gonna stay, no foolish play
Can't stop me from making the big cash
Can't stop me from filling up the trash
I'll get up to there one of these days
When I get a lot of those cloud plays
Will I ever reach to rich and fame?
Or is music all just a **** game?
Help me reach up to there will you please?
Or leaving me falling on my knees?
They all can do it well so can I
Can't say for sure but can at least try
all talk
datanami Feb 2019
They Roll
Old School
Ice Cream
A Dream

God's Plan
Hold On
Calm Down
Get Down

-

Bow Down
Slow Down
Let's Go
Oh No

Locked Up
No Fear
Good Times
Lost Ones
16/64 Hip-hop song titles, sorted in mirror alphabetic (ascending by last letter)
datanami Feb 2019
Like Home
Day One
My ***
Come Here

Lights Please
**** Love
Hot Thing
Sweet G

-

Woo Hah
How High
I Wish
Kick, Push

Straight Path
The Truth
I'm Black
My Block
16/64 Hip-hop song titles, sorted in mirror alphabetic (ascending by last letter)
datanami Feb 2019
Flow 1
Bound 2
King 3
I'm Bad

I Tried
The Red
The Food
The Vibe

-

Black Ice
Think Twice
Slang Blade
One Life

High Life
My Life
Love Game
Watch Me
8/64 Hip-hop song titles, sorted in mirror alphabetic (ascending by last letter)
Aaron LaLux Oct 2017
If you don’t have patience,
that weight might get you 4 to 8,
if you don’t pace it,
that weight might make your loved ones have to wait,

but I guess that’s better than a 9 to 5,
from 20 to life,
rather be a free man locked up inside,
than in prison on the out side every day of my life,

run away slaves still runnin,

we were once kings,
they turned us into pawns,
how we’re just corporate meat,
for sausages from Uncle John’s farm,

how quickly one can go from,
being Father King to an Uncle Tom,
these cities were never meant for us,
that’s why we’re restless and never feel at home,

anxious yes but if you don’t have patience,
that weight might get you 4 to 8,
if you don’t pace it,
that weight might make your loved ones have to wait,

the whole farm’s for sale,
there’s much more at stake than just steak,
Holy Cow where are we now,
somewhere between Chance and Fate,

somewhere between total failure and absolutely great,

not a rapper not a chance,
at least not anymore,
not here to sing and dance,
I am not anybody’s *****,

this is Capitalism gone wrong,
Consumerism gone rouge,
where every new idea seems so passe,
that it’s out of Style before it’s even En Vogue,

Yo,

yo yo yo,
Yo MTV Raps got you to dance,
but all those black faces dancing got the white pockets paid and,
most of all the One Hit Wonders didn’t even get a 2nd chance,

gave all our time to Time Warner,
but we all know Warner Brothers is anything but a brother,
from the corner office right back to that corner,
from the lime light right back to those street lights,

better get right,
better save and invest,
we could get an island for what we spend on these diamonds,
know when to hold ‘em know when to fold ‘em well you know the rest,

if you don’t have patience,
that weight might get you 4 to 8,
if you don’t pace it,
that weight might make your loved ones have to wait,

but I guess that’s better than a 9 to 5,
from 20 to life,
rather be a free man locked up,
than in prison on the out side every day of my life,

run away slaves still runnin…

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

author of multiple bestselling poetry books.
Aaron LaLux Jul 2017
Somewhere In California

Woke up,
somewhere in California,
at a beautiful girl’s house,
a good morning,

with tempe and eggs,
espresso for sure,
a whole meal homemade,
no SPAM no Ma’am just blessings yes Sir,

somewhere,
in California,
Kirtan and gangsta music,
a future of livid linguistics,

I make a poem from these thoughts,
which come from these experiences,
a California Native born,
into a surreal existential existence,

conceived in Hollywood,
which makes everything feel like a movie,
or a Reality Show at least,
battled through this War of World’s in order to have Universal Peace,

see I’ll take a life before I make one,
I guess that makes me an Environmentalist,
people move their mouths making my name appear in the air,
I guess that makes me a Ventriloquist,

how real is this?

Waking up,
somewhere in California,
at a beautiful girl’s house,
a good morning,

with tempe and eggs,
espresso for sure,
a whole meal homemade,
no SPAM no Ma’am just blessings yes Sir…

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

from '777' the new book by best selling poet A. Lux
available worldwide here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1548700746
Benji James Jun 2017
B-E-N-J-I
Come on you're way outta line
Hey, Hey
Say Hey
Out on the foreshore
Looking for some more Y'all
Come on you *****
Get out on the dance floor
Call for some more Y'all
Take me to the mall
Thinking bout you walking down the hall
For sure
Hey give me that
Picking up that shat
Put it under the mat
Ha...Ha, **** That!

I ain't no gangsta
Just a Prankster
Just wanna thank ya
For listening to my crap ya
Gotcha in the middle bit
Working for a Lil bit
Did ya see that ***?
Y'all gotta go
Y'all wanna know
Where do I come from
Where is ma show
Yo Gotta Know
Yeah I Love you to

Playing it single
Looking for some insults
Running from my result
Of being an adult
Just wanna let you know
I think ya mums a ***
Oh, oh **** ya wanna blow
I'll show you where to go
There he is now you know
Ya ******* wanna throw a punch
But I'll eat ya for ma lunch
Come on bring me down
And I'll take you downtown
Oh No what the ******* know
Ya know nothing and that's how it goes
Whoa, whoa!
Back up the chorus
It's not all for us
It's all for one
But I'm not done yall

I ain't no gangsta
Just a Prankster
Just wanna thank ya
For listening to my crap ya
Gotcha in the middle bit
Working for a Lil bit
Did ya see that ***?
Y'all gotta go
Y'all wanna know
Where do I come from
Where is ma show
Yo Gotta Know
Yeah I Love you to

They call me Benny
Just got change from a twenty
Y'all know so many
Wanna get me
But now you see
They all wanna leave
Because I ain't all that great
But still, they wait
Another rhyme on my hands
But I can't defend
Every man on this
God Forsaken Land
Show Me Where
I can put ma hands
On ya body
Can't touch me

I ain't no gangsta
Just a Prankster
Just wanna thank ya
For listening to my crap ya
Gotcha in the middle bit
Working for a Lil bit
Did ya see that ***?
Y'all gotta go
Y'all wanna know
Where do I come from
Where is ma show
Yo Gotta Know
Yeah I Love you to

One More Time Y'all
One for the money
Two for the show
Three to get ready
And ******* to

I ain't no gangsta
Just a Prankster
Just wanna thank ya
For listening to my crap ya
Gotcha in the middle bit
Working for a Lil bit
Did ya see that ***?
Y'all gotta go
Y'all wanna know
Where do I come from
Where is ma show
Yo Gotta Know
Yeah I Love you to

©2017 Written By Benji James
Viseract Oct 2016
Straight outta Ex Dee,
Crazy mother f@cker named Blatchy
Dropping sick beats, rolling hard in the backstreets,
Watch him roll dough as he hailin' a taxi,
Fancy f@cken suit, he's livin' in luxury

Fedora tipped-top on the tippy-top head
Gunning bad gangstas, better red than dead
Shooting spree, smilin' with glee
Don't wanna f@ck with a guy straight outta Ex Dee!
just for fun XD
Alta Justice Aug 2016
thrumming bass pumps into my body
an electric pulse, thumping through my bones,
zapping my veins and frying my nerves
creating static as the golden drops pour into my ears
hair flying around my head in a wreath of hell
the speakers sing

I'm ****** up, I'm black and blue. I'm built for all the abuse. got secrets that nobody knows. I'm good on that ***** ****. I dont want what I can get. I want someone with secrets that nobody knows. I need a gangsta, to love me better, than all the others do...

a tech hum fills my body
bodys sliding in tune with the tempo
hands run on hands run on back and thighs
the song croons with delectable bass

got me up so im barely breathing...

fingers trace my neckline and I bend with the notes
eyes closed hands clasped swirling in a mob of people,
all surging with the beat
the energy is high, and seeping in through my skin

i drink it all in
about an experince in a club and the way a throbbing crowd and good music will doto you
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