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Ghetto ghetto
Get out
River basin
Conifers abound
Precipitation intensified
Percolation goes down
Ground water to recharge
Run-off river bound
Babbling babbling sound
Turbidity and turbulence
Opacity makes it
Difficult to determine scour
River remaining untrained
Devastating the floods
Ghetto ghetto
Left with scars
Ghetto ghetto
Get out
A lame boy; they say I be
Low-pitched guy?; yee' that's me
been a lame boy since I was three
Dull and placid; unsatisfactory

been a quiet boy; since I was born
Psychopathic; and somewhat tough
Sail your ship up-north; I go offshore
A prodigal son;...
left by his mum; at the age of four

Sometime I'm cool; sometimes I'm warm
Father wasn't sure; if I was sane or not
Thought my abnormalities; equals 'dull
So he left Up-North where he'd be bother-not

Father's gone; mum's living rough
Doing enough stuff to rid the boy off.....
the black hole living in the boy's thought
Cos' everyone gets lost; crossing the boy's port

Afterward; I was left in this dungeon
Life raised me to this lame strong boy
A lame boy; raised by rain of dirt
All he's ever taste was the opposite of joy

This lame boy will soon find joy
I'm lame for sure; but my feet are strong
My mind find words when my hands are bored
My heart finds love when my head's at fault

When you bring me stress; I'm turning blind
Cos' this lame boy seems to find
Peace in the loneliness of his mind
Seeing the path ahead and behind

This lame boy is ****** enshrined
Prodigal and divine; a boy you can't confine
Cos' money or ******* doesn't define
his mentality and the way he grind

I'm that lame boy; that you hiss and judge
For my writability and use of words
While you nuisance spew sh*t and sort
I do my lame stuff; Yea; I sit and jot...
And then I pour.....; my state of mind; in a distinctive thought

Well; I'm a lame boy; I only look upfront
I don't care if my root; is clean or not
Don't mind if my boot is filled with mud
Only focus on my dreams and things I sought

I'm a lame boy; I've seen the sea and shore
Crawled this earth from south to North
Been in this world before 94
Before Abacha ruin the course; of this Nation more

Lame boy this; lame boy that
'Lame boy 's ****'; 'lame boy 's bad'
"He's lame and dull; he can't attack"
"too rough and poor; he's not my type"
Well; this lame boy doesn't care 'bout
Words from your lilly-filthy mouth
Cos' this lame boy is now an OG; yes!
An Original Gent; who is God-blessed
Mark Nov 2020
For real, keep it on loop
I dig it a lot, like mama’s corn soup
You feelin’ me, hearing that tune
Or maybe I’m in the wrong room
Get up on it, know what I mean
Jammin’ on hot scones with cream
This song needs to tell our life stories
We all have battles forever in our lives
When you hear the sound of pop pop, oh no
Kids gettin’ shot for a pair of shoes in Chicago

Tough neighbourhood street
Corrupt badges on the beat
Planting dope, selling candy at the corner shop
Writing songs, tagging everywhere, if you dare
Doin’ time, enter from behind, I never, I swear
Come out on parole, new king on throne, lost all control
If I had my time again, I’d save a lot more, forget ‘bout toys
Look over my shoulders, stick to the plan, escape from the boys

They aren’t speakin’ our language
Let’s get the hell outta there, somewhere tranquil
Day by day, lets see if we can crack the code
Try placing ones thoughts in a brand new abode
For better or worse, it’s up to you, not your corner crew
We grow up thinking we had to listen, who knew
Step outside the hood, look around, don’t be shy
Then buy a one-way Greyhound ticket, say bye bye
At the start it might feel hard, but give it a chance
You’ll be surprised what you find, just take that first glance

Tough neighbourhood street
Corrupt badges on the beat
Planting dope, selling candy at the corner shop
Writing songs, tagging everywhere, if you dare
Doin’ time, enter from behind, I never, I swear
Come out on parole, new king on throne, lost all control
If I had my time again, I’d save a lot more, forget ‘bout toys
Look over my shoulders, stick to the plan, escape from the boys
Chill-e Sliphop Jun 2020
This energy, blasphemy, how I feel sometimes/
This nightshade I eat, criples my fuccn mind/
They flood our minds, ears, eyes, all our senses ta ****/
Then question why we high, hollin **** a d!ck/
Society speaks, we weak, n always listenin/
Flashbacks a warm blood glistenin, while it’s tricklin/
In my free time, ski mask, that was my me time/
.40s lodged in brick walls, ricochetin off street signs/
I need that rewind/
Humanity, on a decline/
Skated by on project capers, dubs, nics n dimes.

Committed crooked crimes like drunk n!ggas on straight lines/
Crack behind the glovebox, speedin, duckin one-time/
You’ll never know real, slim, till real see you/
You might ****t ya pants, slim, seein real n!ggas bleed through/
Blood, Loc, Folk, we all strivin for hope/
LK, Azteca, Trece/
Que rollo to my folks/
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SY0obmk8rTs
Chill-e Sliphop Jun 2020
I grew up slow
F_cked up fast as hell
Used to see my daddy
Tuck his nine inside his waist belt
At 13 its swell, running from 12
On this crazy road a life
I fell straight up out my seat belt
Drinking 40s and fifths, tryna dull the pain
And keep these ratchet *** thoughts from smacking my brain, Slim
Thought I was was a ****, you see
Misogynistic ego spree
A real hot head, Slim
My wife would hide the gun from me
Die on your feet
Or live on your knees, Nigg@
The only life we know a thousand degrees, my Nigg@
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fp8sTsTW40Y
Chill-e Sliphop Aug 2020
*** this stress up off my back/
I lost my Lac, in fact, to the repo man/
These drug sprees is killin me like kryptonite n Superman/
I duck dodge, Bobby weave, but Whitney push my wig back/
Apparently, I can’t see, life to me like cataracts/
Ain’t no stacks, ain’t no wealth, no reparations, only tax/
Child support, credit cards, student loans, all facts/
This .40 cal gittin light as hell/
Might smack the hammer, ring my bell/
Abundance she a fickle *****/
I catch her *** I’ma **** her quick/
Quick sand our life, slim/
Struggle we fall more in/
No hope for black men/
Bear traps on our leg, slim/
So bury me n more sin/
My conscious was absent/
You could tell by our accent/
We react by snap-in/
Who is you n her ta judge/
We born in sin, you never was/
You listen ta rap ta catch a buzz/
We catchin slugs, you showin love/
So miss me wit that *******/
Life hit me wit a full clip/
Do a jig, *** TikTok rich/
Own the rights or be a slave to it/
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ppSsGYTRupE
TIZZOP Jul 2020
ivories that are made of letters
grey skin, blackred hair, word babies
gigantic mirror, blackly glowing
psychedelic nature like 1968

apartment in the projects
hallways full of dust and spiders
uncle is smoking the daylight away
his walls covered with bulletholes

red and tired eyes, no smiling
uncle's wife killed in a car crash
dead goons are torturing him now
the memory of her dead body, stuck

past encounters like smoke in the air
red frost covers uncle's body, glaciers
a button to turn back time, fantasies
melting hours for god's sacrifices
Today is a sad day.
Fredy Sanchez Apr 2020
I was on my way to the ground

Face first, pavement bound,

Felt like atlas with the sky on me,

Expectations made me try to flee

My shoulders buckled and my knees gave out

You had to chuckle while I had to shout,

"The world is unfair, I'm stuck on this maze".

Yet you remained completely unfazed.

You looked in my eyes and you told me the truth:

To be happy is to fight nail and tooth

What good is to wish, what good is to hope?

If nothing is done, except that bottle to cope?

Course snow hits my face enough to muddy my brain.

more lies just in case, they suspect you're insane.

There is no one to blame except the one with the pen

You were never alone I was your friend...

And As long as you promise my heart to mend.

I'll promise you:

If you carry the sky then I'll carry you"

the weight dropped to the floor,

The sky was falling, and I care no more.

For As long as you're right next to me,

I will forever be...

Free.
Mark Apr 2020
So, our hero of tha day waz DJ Herc  
He b driven’ lil Mizz Dazze ‘round, in a pimped out Merc  
Queensbridge waz tha birthplace of Hip-Hop  
Red alert, it just won’t stop  
It will hurt uz a bit  
No more than a **** wid a hit  
Wee all thank Merc 4 puttin’ on dat show  
Smokin’ sum **** n angel dust, wid sum real blow  
 
A bro named, Coke LA Rock, waz also a financier friend of mine  
Handin’ out goodies 2 tha children in-line, all tha time  
Nickel bag half n ounce, quarter pound pow, now wee poppin’  
Az long az tha music izn’t stoppin’ and tha rocks r still droppin’  
If champagne waz still a flowin’, then tha freaks wood b steppin’ in line  
Hotel, Motel, u don’t tell, wee don’t tell, one-time root 9  
There’s notta man dat can’t b thrown, a horse dat can’t b rode  
A bull dat can’t b stopped, a disco dat can’t b rocked, can u decode  
 
Were u @ dat famous house party, thee dope  
Spinnin’ tha holy crates of hip-hop, wee hope  
A1 B-boy from every known neighborhood, wid a scent  
From JC, Tony D’, Sweet n Sour, 2 super DJ ‘Fcukin’ Clark Kent  
Sellin’ nickel bags of cannabis, 2 miss layD hoes to mi crew  
Made mi coin roll into notes, helping outta few dat I knew  
Hip-Hop waz made 4 peace, love, unity n fun  
Still b countin’ mi riches, retired n still layin’ in tha hot sun
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