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Sethnicity Oct 2015
I was a fiend ... before I became a teen
I melted microphone instead of cones of ice cream
Music-orientated so when hip-hop was originated
Fitted like pieces of puzzles, complicated
Cause I grabbed the mic and try to say, "yes, y'all"
They tried to take it, and say that I'm too small
Cool, cause I don't get upset
I kick a hole in the speaker, pull the plug, then I jet
Back to the lab, without a mic to grab
So then I add all the rhymes I had
One after the other one, then I make another one
To diss the opposite then ask if the brother's done
I get a craving like I fiend for nicotine
But I don't need a cigarette, know what I mean?
I'm raging, ripping up the stage and
Don't it sound amazing cause every rhyme is made and
Thought of, cause it's sort of, an addiction
Magnetized by the mixing
Vocals, vocabulary, your verses, you're stuck in
The mic is a Drano, volcanoes erupting
Rhymes overflowing, gradually growing
Everything is written in a code, so it can coincide
My thought's a guide
48 tracks to slide
The invincible, microphone fiend Rakim
Spread the word, cause I'm in
E-F-F-E-C-T
A smooth operator operating correctly
But back to the problem, I gotta habit
You can't solve it, silly rabbit
The prescription is a hypertone that's thorough when
I fiend for a microphone like ******
Soon as the bass kicks, I need a fix
Gimme a stage and a mic and a mix
And I'll put you in a mood or is it a state of
Unawareness? Beware, it's the re-animator
A menace to a microphone, a lethal weapon
An assassinator, if the people ain't stepping
You see a part of me that you never seen
When I'm fiending for a microphone, I'm the microphone fiend

After 12, I'm worse than a Gremlin
Feed me hip-hop and I start trembling
The thrill of suspense is intense, you're horrified
But this ain't the cinemas or Tales From the Dark Side
By any means necessary, this is what has to be done
Make way cause here I come
My DJ cuts material
Grand imperial
It's a must that I bust any mic you hand to me
It's inherited, it runs in the family
I wrote the rhyme that broke the bull's back
If that don't slow 'em up, I carry a full pack
Now I don't want to have to let off, you should have kept off
You didn't keep the stage warm, step off
Ladies and gentleman, you're about to see
A pastime, hobby about to be
Taken to the maximum, I can't relax see, I'm
Hype as a hypochondriac cause the rap be one
**** of a antidote, something you can't smoke
More than dope, you're trying to move away but you can't, you're broke
More than cracked up, you should have backed up
For those that act up need to be more than smacked up
Any entertainer, I got a torture chamber
One on one and I'm the remainder
So close your eyes and hold your breath
And I'mma hit ya with the blow of death
Before you go, you'll remember ya seen
The fiend of a microphone, I'm the microphone fiend
The microphone fiend
Microphone Fiend by - Eric B & Rakim
**Rakim is a Supreme Favorite lyricist of mine and this rap is
1 of My Top 5 favorite Rhymes of All Time!**
Not to be out shined his partner in crime Eric was a mastermind at the time on the steel wheels that underline all of their tracks. Take a moment and recognize and respect the raw untamed talent that these two present.
King Tutankhamun Jul 2015
Planet earth
Was my place of birth
I need worth?
Money fortune and fame
Man i couldnt picture this
Without makin' a name
I wanted to be the black Picasso
With the picture perfect flow
So ya know
The microphone fiend
Aint went no where
And All my spectators n haters
Had to stop n stare
Listenin' to the bass thumpin'
Music n mic is so loud
Movin' the crowd
With my aesthetic poetry
Ricochetin' minds with my lyrical
Content
Once the trigger hits the bars get
More ruthless
Strikin' furious
makin' emcees toothless
Leave em with a strong lisp
Check the total Eclipse
Its temporary darkness mark this
Day and age im the new jack
So im turnin' the page
Backward bringin' real hip hop back
Yo! ,im finna cut deep as a lumberjack
And yea im black
So get ready to attack
Butll be back
For more ******* delivery
NONE could shake thee
Original master of the craft
Send the army n still they couldnt ******* me
The black rambo of the industry
I had to take and make
My own moves show to you n prove
To ya that im the best at this
Two decades later n hip hops  gone
But now im resurrected
The flow is re-connected
Back to nineteen eighty six
Now watch me rough up the mix
Dont look any further this is a stick up
Or hold up just fold up
Cuz ya at a dead end
Dont pretend that you couldn't bend
Your way out of a jam session
Go to the **** for a quick blessin' ya stressin'
Got ya nerves shook from my verbs
Ya mind couldnt take it
So death couldnt fake it
now i know as hit up ya funeral
Payin' my dues to the fallen ones
That tried to intervene between
The jewelry the cars and my life
complex scene
Enticin' green
Cuz of the way i drop them fools
Turnin' mule
On the mic
Cuz im paid in fullllllllllllllll!!!!!


— The End —