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"guage" poems
We are, THE Ohio State Buckeyes *Those Oregon ducks look flashy With pretty feathers made for flight But The Ohio State Buckeyes We will clip their wings tonight Our Buckeye team beat Bama They were ranked at number one Now we get to go Duck hunting With Cardale and his shotgun The Ducks they did look good Lets give credit where credit's due They beat undefeated Florida State So they deserve to be there too With Ezekiel Elliott making runs And Urban Meyer making calls A quarterback known as twelve guage The Buckeyes will win it all So now we get to go duck hunting And as a team we hunt as one We are the Buckeye Nation And Duck Season has begun* **We Are THE Ohio State Buckeyes** Game score FINAL OHIO STATE 42 Oregon 20 The Ohio State Buckeyes are College Footballs First Playoff National Champions Poem by: Carl Joseph Roberts
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Jan 12, 2015
Jan 12, 2015 at 5:30 AM UTC
We Are, THE Ohio State Buckeyes
may the way that gives way to this accord of may be in awe of truth and not the fruits of disarray I shall be meditating upon the roads travelled and many discoveries gather that I have unravelled I shall curl my high excitements and misguided ambitions to unfurl what the calls of the wise unfurl and admonish In the mist amidst the tricking twists of fits and false gists, may I hold up fists that will seize to desist and delete the disease of fallacy in curtailed wit In the shadows dark, some pale may I not fade into the tales of lies and manipulative games In the guise of dames so modern and fabulously inclined to fame, may I guage and carry my animosity into the mystery of my identity where only the genuine and real can relate In the encounters with material and all that deters from the mystic and ethereal, I hope to remember the real surreal to surmise the reels of fantasy thrills in graphic frills and euphonic trills However the gigantic systems of the world in money, greed, vanity or lust, may doctor sickness into the souls of the lost and weak: may my heart remain meek and my vision bright and led by the lens of the soul.... With or without I pray not as a religious pilgrim but a sage seeking neverending Light... ever the more grateful, harnessing the grapes of creation, worshiping a servant's code in humility. hustling about this rash hassle of life overshadowed by pyramids and castles remaining true to the cause even when temptation is endlessly bustling about remember remember the hustle when you were down and out without
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Jun 6, 2015
Jun 6, 2015 at 1:48 AM UTC
a hustler's prayer
may the way that gives way to this accord of may be in awe of truth and not the fruits of disarray I shall be meditating upon the roads travelled and many discoveries gather that I have unravelled I shall curl my high excitements and misguided ambitions to unfurl what the calls of the wise unfurl and admonish In the mist amidst the tricking twists of fits and false gists, may I hold up fists that will seize to desist and delete the disease of fallacy in curtailed wit In the shadows dark, some pale may I not fade into the tales of lies and manipulative games In the guise of dames so modern and fabulously inclined to fame, may I guage and carry my animosity into the mystery of my identity where only the genuine and real can relate In the encounters with material and all that deters from the mystic and ethereal, I hope to remember the real surreal to surmise the reels of fantasy thrills in graphic frills and euphonic trills However the gigantic systems of the world in money, greed, vanity or lust, may doctor sickness into the souls of the lost and weak: may my heart remain meek and my vision bright and led by the lens of the soul.... With or without I pray not as a religious pilgrim but a sage seeking neverending Light... ever the more grateful, harnessing the grapes of creation, worshiping a servant's code in humility. hustling about this rash hassle of life overshadowed by pyramids and castles remaining true to the cause even when temptation is endlessly bustling about remember remember the hustle when you were down and out without
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16
Im the hardest to Hit Since Tupac ******* On Killuminati Somebody pass me the 12 guage shotti Now feel these slugs hit yo body Enemies bleed indeed love for greed Feeds a ***** soul Since theres no rest for the wickedness Evilness is an imperative of mankind Pack a chromed .45 and a black .9 As thoughts began to unravel from my mind lookin' for adversaries to put on flat lines Middle finger to one time I pull down my pants so them ******* can **** my **** NOW WHOS THE REAL TRICK? im reachin' through souls Of young boys n girls They hate me cuz the way i swirl Money with my two middle fingers to the world Have no fear cuz the Lord is here In flesh he puttin' me through a test For my heart Battlin' tactics im growin' frantic Never see me panic Now you punk *** critics show me yo heart Puttin' rounds in yo chest Now ya dearly depart No sorrow from me on a mission Hittin' yo number one charts With this **** **** my ****** feel this from East to West Coast Though I'm From the South i still Love to boast Makin' a ghetto toast To the real Got every heart in the burbs to slums Packin' steel No time to back downs soon ill be holdin' the crown Mild scars from breakin' the slaveryyy Wither its reason or rhyme to crime and strife We embracin' that **** life!!!
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Aug 22, 2015
Aug 22, 2015 at 7:47 AM UTC
**** Luv
Dream to reach stars but dreams can be broken, Bitter memories and the pain is unspoken. It won’t be erased, but submerged beneath new pages. Expectations do not match reality. Reality is what you choose to make real. Turn inside and guage what you have earned, Smiles will not dissolve forever, For there is always a lesson learnt. Be ready to except a fall, You might be just witnessing an illusion. Things don’t need to be the way you dream. 'haps you're living someone else’s dream. The dreamer was an artist, the hand that wrote it all. Hate is not bad; it’s just an emotion after all. Paint a picture on the canvas but know that it can be burnt. Throw the ashes and treasure the scars, to remember the lesson learnt. Life is not bad; it’s irregular, unanticipated but grand, Changes make you alive, but through them only one will take your hand. Time is a two faced arrow, your mind is vicious and vast, It flows from present to future, but also to the past. Light is just not beauty, Encompass the dark, Your canvas will be painted, not alone but with the stars. When your walk is not alone, when you’re whole you will discern, One day you cried and now you laugh on what you learnt.
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Mar 27, 2014
Mar 27, 2014 at 1:30 PM UTC
Canvas
1. infinitely flexible, malleable in every way imaginable; sprinkled in magic with a taste that can 2. complicatesimplifyconfuseand clarify; 3. a compass with which castle crafters map their masterpieces, built from layers of similes and metaphors and symphonies of sound, of memories and apologies and everything bound; 4. a reel of delicate threads which fervently await a seamstress of words to weave them together; *impressionable when you don’t mean it, fleeting when you do.
0
Aug 1, 2011
Aug 1, 2011 at 5:34 PM UTC
lan· guage (n) [lang-gwij]
The first time you hear a gunshot in person is a coming-of-age event. Where were you when you heard it? Standing behind your dad, wearing earmuffs and protective glasses while he showed you how to brace for the recoil of a 12 guage shotgun? Going into a shooting range to learn self defense and studying everyone else because you're too nervous to ask how you're supposed to stand or how you're supposed to hold it? On the street in the dark with your friends, walking through the rough part of the neighborhood to prove how big your sack was? Blam. Bright light. Blam. Total darkness. Blam. Bright light. Three shots. A total of 2.3 seconds has gone by. You are suddenly years older, because of how much those 2.3 seconds of time ages you. Your friend's injured. Blam. Get down. Blam. Go home. 1.8 seconds. Everything is silent now. The only sound is the ringing in your ears, followed by the peeling tires of the vehicle. Smoke hangs motionless in the air. In your head, in your room later that night, in the hospital to bring one of them poorly stated "Get well soon" cards and in the graveyard to bring the other one flowers, you only hear one sound. Blam. Four years later. Training on a range with soldiers. Have the drill sergeant scream in your face that you don't know what it's like to watch your best friend take a bullet in the battlefield. Compose yourself. Two years later, walking to work through the bad part of a different city. You already know it's going to happen. This time, it's not to you, or to anyone you know, but you hear it anyways and you think of the first time. Unfortunately, it's not the first time we all like to think about, which is usually a backseat, or your parents basement, or in the school bathroom, no, this one's a bang that's much less enjoyable. We're told not to talk about it. We live in fear of it. A constant fear. You start to feel unsafe where you live. Better go by a gun.
0
Nov 4, 2015
Nov 4, 2015 at 9:49 AM UTC
Gunshot
The first time you hear a gunshot in person is a coming-of-age event. Where were you when you heard it? Standing behind your dad, wearing earmuffs and protective glasses while he showed you how to brace for the recoil of a 12 guage shotgun? Going into a shooting range to learn self defense and studying everyone else because you're too nervous to ask how you're supposed to stand or how you're supposed to hold it? On the street in the dark with your friends, walking through the rough part of the neighborhood to prove how big your sack was? Blam. Bright light. Blam. Total darkness. Blam. Bright light. Three shots. A total of 2.3 seconds has gone by. You are suddenly years older, because of how much those 2.3 seconds of time ages you. Your friend's injured. Blam. Get down. Blam. Go home. 1.8 seconds. Everything is silent now. The only sound is the ringing in your ears, followed by the peeling tires of the vehicle. Smoke hangs motionless in the air. In your head, in your room later that night, in the hospital to bring one of them poorly stated "Get well soon" cards and in the graveyard to bring the other one flowers, you only hear one sound. Blam. Four years later. Training on a range with soldiers. Have the drill sergeant scream in your face that you don't know what it's like to watch your best friend take a bullet in the battlefield. Compose yourself. Two years later, walking to work through the bad part of a different city. You already know it's going to happen. This time, it's not to you, or to anyone you know, but you hear it anyways and you think of the first time. Unfortunately, it's not the first time we all like to think about, which is usually a backseat, or your parents basement, or in the school bathroom, no, this one's a bang that's much less enjoyable. We're told not to talk about it. We live in fear of it. A constant fear. You start to feel unsafe where you live. Better go by a gun.
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1
She was riding me with violence Then there came this suspect silence, Our bodies’ short alliance Had came to a swift end. Dismounting like a trooper, She left me in a stupor… To write on her computer? I lay there in a daze! She looked at me with eye of, The deepest green, they’re kind of, (you may have caused this rhyme love) Like a gangrenous dove. “I’ might continue later…” I struggled not to hate her, But it’s not her job to cater To my seductive gait, or my deviant- like needs. So I hatched a plan that just might, Render my plight more trite, And make my mind-set alright, To continue through this day. So I grabbed my **** with vehemence, and pumped with such experience that the ceiling’s coat of cream just might vindicate my mind. As it was dripping off the ceiling… I began to get this feeling, My intent had been revealing To this cheeky penguin's view As I looked over to guage her reaction, I'd ought to savour, but I was faced with a much stranger Situation than I’d expect. She was sitting with a smile... The umbrella cocked awhile. She must have seen through my quite vile, Intentions straight away She tilted her head slightly, and with a wink, said quite politely - "I guess you're done now Riley? My plan...it worked a treat" That’s why I like this woman, She keeps me guessing more than, a stockmarket versed in Russian, or a way to end this poem.
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Apr 30, 2012
Apr 30, 2012 at 6:56 PM UTC
***** stopped riding
Still puffin' cigars in my sixty six jaguar Made a hood star from climbing a far **** the drug games I made my name Through lyrics of pain easing ya migraine Words pure as Columbian ******* That's means you'll go insane Tryna hang with the dark Knight Bruce Wayne Which means ya mentallydrained going derange My smiff n wesson lays a nice range From the Midwest to the south of Central Texas Get love from my barrio we stay thorough Haters get marked like zorro  so follow The leader beat pleaser turn ebenenzer Once I spit vocals take over ya locals Can't Max  me out my own **** hardest to hit Ya swear it's back in the year of nine six Slammin' all of the these industry clowns like Jordans did the Knicks A Timely essence Even if I'm chillin' with the dead residence you'll still feel my presence no hesitance To foes stained ya calicos wake ya up with a cup of Flow and I stay smokin' girls ******* holes setting fires to their mentals My flows set on auto pilot causing riots Baltimore rage untamed had to put my rhymes in a cage Seen the guage Cocked back ain't no taking away from that Deaths in progress only blessing you seen Is stress so take another hit of cannabis Before you enter the eternal abyss hang ya body over the cliff Like Big Red record every word I said And still can't get a word to the feds I'm the black Hoover got flats from Houston to Vancouver Let me show ya who's the real bruiser Spittin' rhymes that lay more bodies than Fallujah Cruise right through tha My rhymes is tank shootin' missles with no thanks I'm only here to live out My fathers prank Though the devil keep me above all levels Tryna stay from the goods I was made rebel Fools thought they was Cain til they found out I was abel Killin' em with microphone cordless cables and turntables Read between my eyers n you'll see visions of many halos
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Feb 16, 2019
Feb 16, 2019 at 8:01 PM UTC
Aggin'
Still puffin' cigars in my sixty six jaguar Made a hood star from climbing a far **** the drug games I made my name Through lyrics of pain easing ya migraine Words pure as Columbian ******* That's means you'll go insane Tryna hang with the dark Knight Bruce Wayne Which means ya mentallydrained going derange My smiff n wesson lays a nice range From the Midwest to the south of Central Texas Get love from my barrio we stay thorough Haters get marked like zorro  so follow The leader beat pleaser turn ebenenzer Once I spit vocals take over ya locals Can't Max  me out my own **** hardest to hit Ya swear it's back in the year of nine six Slammin' all of the these industry clowns like Jordans did the Knicks A Timely essence Even if I'm chillin' with the dead residence you'll still feel my presence no hesitance To foes stained ya calicos wake ya up with a cup of Flow and I stay smokin' girls ******* holes setting fires to their mentals My flows set on auto pilot causing riots Baltimore rage untamed had to put my rhymes in a cage Seen the guage Cocked back ain't no taking away from that Deaths in progress only blessing you seen Is stress so take another hit of cannabis Before you enter the eternal abyss hang ya body over the cliff Like Big Red record every word I said And still can't get a word to the feds I'm the black Hoover got flats from Houston to Vancouver Let me show ya who's the real bruiser Spittin' rhymes that lay more bodies than Fallujah Cruise right through tha My rhymes is tank shootin' missles with no thanks I'm only here to live out My fathers prank Though the devil keep me above all levels Tryna stay from the goods I was made rebel Fools thought they was Cain til they found out I was abel Killin' em with microphone cordless cables and turntables Read between my eyers n you'll see visions of many halos
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52
I remember when I wrote my first proper story at ten It was called Gateway to Heaven. When My grandad died I found myself preoccupied With the notion of the afterlife Cause I could not believe that someone Like him could simply be gone. Couple that with an obsession With space exploration And what you got was a spiritual sci-fi. To be honest it was more a screenplay I bought it into class for some reason one day Not sure why Maybe I wanted someone to read it. Left it on my desk and went for a **** And when I got back my teacher Who had a bit of a flare for the amateur dramatics WAS reading it. I was met with an intrigued gaze as I walked back in, I remember thinking *ahh why are you going through peoples things?! That's rude!* (Although I secretly knew she would) Tryin not to blush as she asked Me questions about it, then asked me to stand up and read the plot out to the class. At this point what you've got to factor in is that I was incredibly shy, hmm no maybe not shy, more under confident. Not cripplingly so, don't get me wrong I was incredibly social, was very popular in my class as a child but when it came to sharing thoughts of my introspection, any talent or shows of confidence, well let's just say I'd learnt to keep that **** to myself... But I stood up and read it. And was met with a mass of baffled gazes, a memory that I don't think will ever leave me. To be fair it was pretty out there, all black holes, theology and grief. The silence that fell, matching the silence of space itself makes me wary of silences still. That eternal moment Tryin to Guage the judgement thinking oh **** it! now everyone knows I'm weird, shoulda just stuck to my status quo in my final year. But it was broken eventually by my friend Funmi who said "I don't get it" I'll never forget it, it was sorta funny, mostly disappointing. I wish I had the mentality at that time to think these guys just ain't ready for me but I guess that was that, class went back to what it was doing,   teacher came up with a look of approval and some words of encouragement which was odd, she wasn't my favourite teacher at all and she knew it full well and i spose that marks my underwhelming moment in the spotlight... *Although I've always maintained the belief that it'll shine bright on me one day or maybe I'll outshine it*
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Jun 4, 2015
Jun 4, 2015 at 3:10 PM UTC
Portal to the Past
I remember when I wrote my first proper story at ten It was called Gateway to Heaven. When My grandad died I found myself preoccupied With the notion of the afterlife Cause I could not believe that someone Like him could simply be gone. Couple that with an obsession With space exploration And what you got was a spiritual sci-fi. To be honest it was more a screenplay I bought it into class for some reason one day Not sure why Maybe I wanted someone to read it. Left it on my desk and went for a **** And when I got back my teacher Who had a bit of a flare for the amateur dramatics WAS reading it. I was met with an intrigued gaze as I walked back in, I remember thinking *ahh why are you going through peoples things?! That's rude!* (Although I secretly knew she would) Tryin not to blush as she asked Me questions about it, then asked me to stand up and read the plot out to the class. At this point what you've got to factor in is that I was incredibly shy, hmm no maybe not shy, more under confident. Not cripplingly so, don't get me wrong I was incredibly social, was very popular in my class as a child but when it came to sharing thoughts of my introspection, any talent or shows of confidence, well let's just say I'd learnt to keep that **** to myself... But I stood up and read it. And was met with a mass of baffled gazes, a memory that I don't think will ever leave me. To be fair it was pretty out there, all black holes, theology and grief. The silence that fell, matching the silence of space itself makes me wary of silences still. That eternal moment Tryin to Guage the judgement thinking oh **** it! now everyone knows I'm weird, shoulda just stuck to my status quo in my final year. But it was broken eventually by my friend Funmi who said "I don't get it" I'll never forget it, it was sorta funny, mostly disappointing. I wish I had the mentality at that time to think these guys just ain't ready for me but I guess that was that, class went back to what it was doing,   teacher came up with a look of approval and some words of encouragement which was odd, she wasn't my favourite teacher at all and she knew it full well and i spose that marks my underwhelming moment in the spotlight... *Although I've always maintained the belief that it'll shine bright on me one day or maybe I'll outshine it*
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72
I’m Up! I’m Up! ………………… The pink rag, soaked in ice cold water flops onto my capsulated face, Caught in between the colorful alligator whom follows me in the darkness and a temperature guage, set to a boiling point of some sort. I’m Awake! I’m Awake! …………………... The grown imitation of me is dragging the arctic rug across my crusted sockets of sight, I arise with immediate surprise, My head cranks left- right- A man’s best friend shaking a seizure to feel warm and dry, I visualize the bottom of my mattress laying quiet and still above my head, The coffee beans brew the smell of one more morning to begin the dilation of rested lungs, Get Up! Get Up! The executioner of rested thought is a parasite to my inability to exercise- Worm-like movements of some algorithm- Off with his head! The king of my heart screams as the comforter slides off of my immobile flesh and the residue from my eyes attracts plenty of oxygen, Drifting off, I again visualize that slumbered alligator, whom is chasing my dreams into the Rubbermaid playground, The creature sways in my knightly moat as I taunt the teeth of a smirk so envious- Opposable stumps we tag as a thumbs up, Ten minutes with this shadowed beast is all I need to chomp down on prey that only exists in the wild jungle of the morrow, Splash! Splash! ………………
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May 26, 2013
May 26, 2013 at 1:46 PM UTC
Coffee Beans (Unfinished)
Yesss Im a black sheep so i can diguise myself Keep an AK 47 on the shelf Dont ask me Who i am? Call me ****** i really dont Give a **** Action im built tough Since i am public enemy one The media will never get enough Suckas aint nothing but a bluff Sound the alarm As the Dj gets rough give me some of that Funkyy stuff **** aint never hurt nobody Guns leads to so many dead body Killuminati Is what i yell stop naw get the bail And lets free All my brothers incarcerated for free Smooth. As a criminal My rhymes subliminal maximum minimal Is the wage im in rage Get the twelve guage Lets do damage to the higher powers that be I wasnt born a sucker Im ready to die for free In this world Ya need fame just to get a little love for ya name **** hip hop is where my heart is? But its lost dont know where it is? Killed by the jewish society gay mafias Women and ill know they'll despise me Truth is what i am Urban radiooo doesnt even slam Promote sloppy music to keep a rate on I used a calling card To dail in i tell them cut that ******** off or we'll break in Entering to the station play old school records rock the nation I see you hesitation Scared of a revolt took the emcees then jolt Them out the way cuz they gay Fashion fad lookin' peculiar I still wear saggy jabos stocky medium afro Hard core Is the sound **** all these club sounds No consciousness surround The black community im all for unity But how when the pushin' racism G ? But ya know my topics will get tossed Lost in the hour of the chaos Damnnnn!!!!! Cuz of the rebel i amm
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Jul 28, 2015
Jul 28, 2015 at 7:26 PM UTC
Rebel with a Cause
Yesss Im a black sheep so i can diguise myself Keep an AK 47 on the shelf Dont ask me Who i am? Call me ****** i really dont Give a **** Action im built tough Since i am public enemy one The media will never get enough Suckas aint nothing but a bluff Sound the alarm As the Dj gets rough give me some of that Funkyy stuff **** aint never hurt nobody Guns leads to so many dead body Killuminati Is what i yell stop naw get the bail And lets free All my brothers incarcerated for free Smooth. As a criminal My rhymes subliminal maximum minimal Is the wage im in rage Get the twelve guage Lets do damage to the higher powers that be I wasnt born a sucker Im ready to die for free In this world Ya need fame just to get a little love for ya name **** hip hop is where my heart is? But its lost dont know where it is? Killed by the jewish society gay mafias Women and ill know they'll despise me Truth is what i am Urban radiooo doesnt even slam Promote sloppy music to keep a rate on I used a calling card To dail in i tell them cut that ******** off or we'll break in Entering to the station play old school records rock the nation I see you hesitation Scared of a revolt took the emcees then jolt Them out the way cuz they gay Fashion fad lookin' peculiar I still wear saggy jabos stocky medium afro Hard core Is the sound **** all these club sounds No consciousness surround The black community im all for unity But how when the pushin' racism G ? But ya know my topics will get tossed Lost in the hour of the chaos Damnnnn!!!!! Cuz of the rebel i amm
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53
Remained uh Loyal to the game Infamous is my name Im after the fire Its the return of the reign Since Pac is King Im the prince back to hit Ya with some real **** Hard to dodge when tryna Put haters n critics n casket Though a ******* I still made a change **** the fame And all these nigguhs is speakin' the same Riddle me this as i hit ya with some game Aint got no shame I was apart of the drug game ******* Filled my pockets mayne Hangin' on differ corner slangin' But it was the environment that got me bangin' But i heard better blues when i see the news Im seein my people in a fued At war over each other For nothing All roughed up by the media for Nothing Then all of sudden When a brother wants to regained consciousness They label it ludicrous take my quotes as a diss But i dismiss All the ******** got to stay real to roots Until the fat lady sangs remain Loyal to the game  Though i was Cursed as a ***** My focus was on chasin' figures From ***** dreams Too ******* in my abode scene Jewels & jacuzzi in the limousine Big tv screens Things aint what it seems Somehow I thiught money Would bring happiness But it only attract serpents Evil is the root to sorts of treachery Gotta watch who's next to me ? Feel me! They say they have your back But the first to attack When ya turn ya back Thats friends in this day in age They say why you upset im growin' in a rage All i know is dope hoes n a 12 guage They ****** up my community With the spiritual raid Invested in homocide drug cartels Suicide prostitution the stories never fail And ah If you plan on makin' future Better believe they comin' to shoot ya Eradicate our whole race The nation steadily sayin' **** you to our face Get out the **** pulpits n come to the streets Thats where its real pack yo steel So haters can feel The ammunition of revenge No pretend we never surrend We straight up warriors More than thugs Now embrace the eternal flame I dont care if i gotta for my peeps Im vain but ill remain Loyalllllll to the gammeeeeee
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Aug 29, 2015
Aug 29, 2015 at 10:28 AM UTC
Loyal to the Game
Remained uh Loyal to the game Infamous is my name Im after the fire Its the return of the reign Since Pac is King Im the prince back to hit Ya with some real **** Hard to dodge when tryna Put haters n critics n casket Though a ******* I still made a change **** the fame And all these nigguhs is speakin' the same Riddle me this as i hit ya with some game Aint got no shame I was apart of the drug game ******* Filled my pockets mayne Hangin' on differ corner slangin' But it was the environment that got me bangin' But i heard better blues when i see the news Im seein my people in a fued At war over each other For nothing All roughed up by the media for Nothing Then all of sudden When a brother wants to regained consciousness They label it ludicrous take my quotes as a diss But i dismiss All the ******** got to stay real to roots Until the fat lady sangs remain Loyal to the game  Though i was Cursed as a ***** My focus was on chasin' figures From ***** dreams Too ******* in my abode scene Jewels & jacuzzi in the limousine Big tv screens Things aint what it seems Somehow I thiught money Would bring happiness But it only attract serpents Evil is the root to sorts of treachery Gotta watch who's next to me ? Feel me! They say they have your back But the first to attack When ya turn ya back Thats friends in this day in age They say why you upset im growin' in a rage All i know is dope hoes n a 12 guage They ****** up my community With the spiritual raid Invested in homocide drug cartels Suicide prostitution the stories never fail And ah If you plan on makin' future Better believe they comin' to shoot ya Eradicate our whole race The nation steadily sayin' **** you to our face Get out the **** pulpits n come to the streets Thats where its real pack yo steel So haters can feel The ammunition of revenge No pretend we never surrend We straight up warriors More than thugs Now embrace the eternal flame I dont care if i gotta for my peeps Im vain but ill remain Loyalllllll to the gammeeeeee
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72
distance brought by greed and a fatal misdirection an alterior motive drops in time, likewise we connect by lines easily drowned out by the tone of her voice decisions that she made changes my lungs changes the air volatile air what did you say? my mistake, your waste try and stop harrassing fate while connecting these two names your mistake, my waste were the breaths that i had lost singing of your crooked lines in chorus you could not ignore a lip gloss defeat but i'll never admit that the way you move is so suspicious the words you say are so delicious i can't defeat all my vices i'll always at least have one my mistake, your waste try to quit harrassing fate while connecting these two names your mistake, my waste were the breaths that i had lost singing of your crooked love in chorus you could not ignore lost in my disguise i start to draw from discard piles just to guage reactions since wishes prove me nothing action is the only way to keep my head above her deep, disturbing wake follow for days cold and like a fevered skin i'll keep the others in mattered fact, spoken words and the patter of tiny feet will make together last just say... my mistake, your waste try to quit harrassing fate while connecting these two names your mistake, my waste were the breaths that i had lost singing of your crooked love in chorus you could not ignore
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May 6, 2013
May 6, 2013 at 9:23 PM UTC
consummate suspect
Yeah how you me style Flavas ill **** like gomer pyle And watch me pile Up hataz to spectators Mad cuz they can't relate to us Gettin' papers through illegal capors Inhale the vapors Of me **** I blow tracers Man and I gotta stay thick With the click But I'm disguise since I got wise Yeah a war strategist so I depise lies Otherwise you'll catch a saprise Brain shocks lyrical tasin Half man half amazing misbehavin Since I got blessed by a maven I'm black as raven son of the lost braves and If you test you'll be stiff on the pavement no sentiment Rackin' golden bars formin' parliament Black nation wake up fill the heat Cuz it's rising my melanin skin ties in The sun and you can tell by all of the lies of the begotten son Can't put a price on a mind Makin' dimes on pennies Hardly any can match my pedigree Deadly rhymes I got plenty Beat any turn hataz guinea Eat my flows til they grow Obese and soon to blow below Six feet ya go casket closed Ya know the rest so no Need to explain some say I'm crazy Others say I'm sane as Hussien Chemical Ali lyrically who's touchin' me I'm an epidemic plague Widely spread All over infected countries cities to counties Jail I'll never be Cuz I'm the face of revolution Guage is cocked and thousand of us shootin' Hold ya guard tight cuz we lootin'
0
Oct 26, 2017
Oct 26, 2017 at 12:46 AM UTC
Dark Sentiments
You grind my yellow cactus Like an asphalt pomegranite You slime into my universe Like you are not of this planet You guage my tumbling body Many fireworks try to chameleon The colors bright But you enter my daytime tea Like you are of the nite 2 men **** you and you blame the doctor By spoken word transmits you to lay Under the gun of my evolution ladder Sniding God for the interlude in which you play Screaming geese beckon to your strange turning psychosis I have all these ribbons and sellotape I suppose there are many radios in Spain I guess that my jive-box is a measurement of pain Tourists chat and snap poloroids Just a normal day.
0
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 6:34 PM UTC
THE COLORS BRIGHT (1998)
Ink flows on the page Whispers of stories so bold Time held in each line Revealing past deeds untold Words act as a guage Of our thoughts, from young to old Baring through the age When gazing on words untold By turning each page Growth of ideas unfold
0
Jun 26, 2025
Jun 26, 2025 at 10:10 PM UTC
The Scrivener (Haiku)
I yawn and raise my arms up high awaken from my rest. I think about a dream I had a-bout a little test. A test in life, a guage of how asleep I was and for how long an hour, a day, some months or years? Someone must have banged a gong I did not search for time clues but I found then anyway scrapyard reciepts, swarthy rhyming tweets no hint that I would hit the hay A plan to set a few things right clean up my crowded cluttered life I must have made too much progress or maybe I just flunked the test Round 73 I yanw and raise my arms.....
0
Oct 21, 2014
Oct 21, 2014 at 1:08 PM UTC
Round 72
How am I supposed to know If I'm not happy? What's my guage, my understanding? What is normal? What is not? I'm not really sure I know. The tree's bows are burdened by the fruit. Pulling itself over With the sheer weight of abundance Is this just stress? An accumulation of life The daily grind Or does it go deeper?
0
Jul 7, 2019
Jul 7, 2019 at 3:55 AM UTC
On understanding ones mental health
The untold consequences Of the wars that we wage No discussions of repercussions Even moves the needle on the guage As if ignorance being bliss Keeps us from regretting what we never miss Even though there's no way to know The cost of what's lost...if it never exists An Einstein in waiting--never fulfilled Denied by circumstances of birth Put into the categorical imperatives Never to fulfill the value of their worth Such is the cost of what's lost...... ........IF IT NEVER EXISTS!
0
Apr 13, 2016
Apr 13, 2016 at 1:30 AM UTC
Untold values
Feather & ink stunting Mount levi homage Pressure seep breath down-under prom a colm-sink Promise ****** weary clapse applause crash groom guage Pressure weep mag-hindsight emotions chaff link Panegyrize grotto seer like'n cinque Birth of the star of the righteous calling Death chant plead Slumber -lock- Key welm kept falling
0
Aug 20, 2017
Aug 20, 2017 at 12:27 PM UTC
Augur
5 words Missouri Mississippi Illinois River Junction Stealth Lil Bethleham 600k Different hands 1 way in 1 way out New Brussels Manhattan Project Chuuuch 15 million munition Billions on billions of Rounds Deja Vu Free Me From My Chains King Earth The 1 Blood Z Z Z Jolie June Jade Jessie Cage Guage Wayne Britton Brightly Bobby Whittney Lisa Tiffany George Lona Dave Marvin Wade Jusseipty Josephine Raymond Charlene Cora Ramone Franky Leo Kim Q P T G Jeffereson Nelly ... Nuff said ... Pull up your 120ft yacht Wait Youll be the only 1 #1 Why?
0
Jul 18, 2024
Jul 18, 2024 at 10:55 PM UTC
"#1 Why: By: Z
Disheveled and mutated. Ugly shell of what it used to be. Our government curated by the CEO Neo-Con warheads with nuclear weapon arms and drone strikes aimed at every other countries heart. Hawks of the most grotesque nature. Warhawks with bombs of freedom and democracy. The right to social justice and free choice are properties of the US. Yet those same words "Property of the US" line those missles, the only freedom they ring is freedom from this world. Free to dive into the afterlife. Staunch support to policies of corrpution. Reeking of ****** and money. Dressed in red and green, piles of each, blood and money line their legacies. Facades played out in media like a family soap opera. Facsist facades play out in legislature, tyranny inducing consequences. Justice not served as they rally around the mottos of "Just us". As in just us rich and powerful get to pass laws. Just us white and privileged get walk away from cops without a 12 Guage bullet in the brain. As in just us media pundits know about politics. In jusice they have no belief. Only selfish belief of "just us". Oligarchic and xenophobic. Slandering the people's knowledge like we don't feel the ***** hand of power encasing us in its ****** grips. Convincing out of fear we are all each other's worst enemies due to color religion or Politcal theory. Propaganda created shackles out of freedom and enslaved us in our own good will. The ***** roots of our skyscrapers poison the soul because what they rake in at the top is dollars made from death and destruction. From the creation of war refugees and third world farmer suicides they install suede in the penthouse. The money has created shackles out of freedom and enslaved us.
0
Jul 29, 2016
Jul 29, 2016 at 5:00 AM UTC
...Untitled
Disheveled and mutated. Ugly shell of what it used to be. Our government curated by the CEO Neo-Con warheads with nuclear weapon arms and drone strikes aimed at every other countries heart. Hawks of the most grotesque nature. Warhawks with bombs of freedom and democracy. The right to social justice and free choice are properties of the US. Yet those same words "Property of the US" line those missles, the only freedom they ring is freedom from this world. Free to dive into the afterlife. Staunch support to policies of corrpution. Reeking of ****** and money. Dressed in red and green, piles of each, blood and money line their legacies. Facades played out in media like a family soap opera. Facsist facades play out in legislature, tyranny inducing consequences. Justice not served as they rally around the mottos of "Just us". As in just us rich and powerful get to pass laws. Just us white and privileged get walk away from cops without a 12 Guage bullet in the brain. As in just us media pundits know about politics. In jusice they have no belief. Only selfish belief of "just us". Oligarchic and xenophobic. Slandering the people's knowledge like we don't feel the ***** hand of power encasing us in its ****** grips. Convincing out of fear we are all each other's worst enemies due to color religion or Politcal theory. Propaganda created shackles out of freedom and enslaved us in our own good will. The ***** roots of our skyscrapers poison the soul because what they rake in at the top is dollars made from death and destruction. From the creation of war refugees and third world farmer suicides they install suede in the penthouse. The money has created shackles out of freedom and enslaved us.
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4
coming up out that darkness all ya see is marks all over his body sighs of his innocent but ripsta was hell sent w from where all foul killaz went no repent from me i be sinister minister preachin to ya how to ****** mo getaway smoothso pay attention to bones principle its simple and plain puff mary jane to ease my thoughts mayne before i **** i mastered the skill takin wills im in it for the thrills nawi be in it for the luv of money triple six follow me movin **** cuz im forceful like a twelve guage erupt **** like a grenade serenade the street with bullets in yo body as the coroner sweeps up the evidence none found cuz ripsta be intelligent dont ya knowmurder comes n mysterious hell bound til i touch the ground screamin' ****** mo wither it be a tech nine gat or four four as long as see gore make war even at peace so ruthless even murdered my own niece cold blood i be n fiendin for dead bodies like illuminati come sacrifice me and you'll see what i see my mind be full of red puddles of blood make ya grudge but dont test to quick cuz you'll be seein the eternal judge Come again...mo ****** ****** ****** mooo
0
Mar 1, 2017
Mar 1, 2017 at 10:16 PM UTC
****** Mo
Over the hill of every hope, to the village of the nothing. To a road of quicking, a path you dare to follow Were you so crass With little class . Shallow shame, so fostering. Of the will you not dismiss, the destiny of being. That then to your reflection, and chance of your disection. All the gutteral with a hate of no regection. Made by fault of euberis in youth and then to age. All the hope of right or wrong that you be worthy sage. For all that venture inward emerge so cleansed of rage. With a scream so heavenly and heavy heart to guage But mine is very light I'm of all restraint. I build my walls of love, and of nothing dare thee taint. For you I love the most the other in my skin. I will ever foster this, And drown you in my sin. And so i say goodbye And see you claw at me I am of the sentry That will never devil free.
0
Mar 5, 2019
Mar 5, 2019 at 11:00 PM UTC
Hope
i admit it, what's to say i relive it, without pain bacckstreet lover on the side of the road i got a bomb in my temple thats gonna explode i got a 16 guage buried under my coat i pray, once upon a time, i could control myself once upon a time, i could lose myself indian summer and i hate the heat i got my hand in my pocket so determinded and descrete there she was with him on the side of the street they think i have my eyes closed but i'm looking at them the whole ******* time i explode once upon a time, i could control myself once upon a time, i could lose myself
0
Jan 8, 2015
Jan 8, 2015 at 9:21 AM UTC
once