Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Some times I pray for the Lord to take me away
From the pain that stays and friends went astray
Once I hit the bottom of the crab barrel
I a ghostly Pharoah living life on death row
My soul inside of a atom'd shell well
Ain't nothing but hell can't even bail
Only if my life got tooken or naturally Rosen
From a unwakened sleep my conscious speaks
Tryna break free but I gotta lotta work clearly
I know they fear me cuz knowledge
Is dangerous G see how many form up as enemies
After ya royalties ain't no more loyalty
Once they see the building of a dynasty
I resurrected as a king corruption born into a ring
Of a fire I'm king Tut risen from the grave givin'
Nothing but revisited pain that stains
Ya master plan I got a powerful clan
Who all pack at least fifty grand packing the stans
And turn haters into fans without even being mainstream man

Restrictions of land plot riots got brought
Unto the community guns and drugs separate unity
They disputing me cuz I speak truthfully
Most fools be spitting for mass publicity
But I gives a **** about the industry
It ain't what it used to be so many phonies
Acting like they ya homies when they holding pistols
Behind ya back my minds spins black
Back to the days of where realness sits at
That's a preposition **** the intermission
I know the rap game is about the commission
Since hataz sho they neck they bound for lynching
No disrespect to the deads souls that dialed connect
Down the gun line all I need is one line
Like to Nas gun line broke the laws that define
Me as a ***** I stay holding my trigger
I try to spread love but most miss the picture
A photograph of his last laugh before ye see the blood bath
Francie Lynch Dec 2014
From the tip of my toes
To the top of my head,
This world
Is suffocating me.

I'm up to my ankles with Jackals;
I'm up to my tibia with Libya;
I'm up to my knees with Refugees;
I'm up to my thighs with Counterspies;
I'm up to my crotch with Iraq;
I'm up to my groin with Muslims;
I'm up to my waist with the Displaced;
I'm up to my belly button with Christians;
I'm up to my hands with Iran and all ...stans;
I'm up to my rib cage with Renegades;
I'm up to my sides with Genocides;
I'm up to my chest with the Oppressed;
I'm up to my neck with Egypt;
I'm up to my nose with Jews;
I'm up to my cheeks with Sheiks;
I'm up to my Irises with Isis;
I'm up to my eyeballs with Jihads;
I'm up to my ears with Syria;
I'm up to my forehead with Baghdad;
I'm up to my cranium with North Koreans.

My Christmas Wish:
Is for them to do
The anatomically impossible:
****** Themselves.
Mateuš Conrad Aug 2017
the greeks coined the phrase: deus ex machina, as i later coined: **** in machina as compliment; but the latins? given the current scope of anti-history with the big bang? a redefiniation of "god"... god? in-statio impetus... man? ex-statio impetus... it's called a szlifierka approach, i.e. grinding / refining definitions... well... "refining", etymology is much excused from changing to chancing excuses of the "proper" terms, they're never accurate enough to become rigid as god in bone, or stone... the paradox? in the beginning was the word... but then word met its teacher etymology, and then its hog, that fashionable vocab discredited and in the holy status thought up: fickleness and the easy sway; as might be considered later: **** ex machina est deus... but? deus in machina est ****... although that's not exactly true... given the consequences of man's "fathomibility" argument for god in atheism, but the unfathomability argument for god in a tornado, in an earthquake, the tital wave, in the tsunami... sorry, but atheism only works in a cosy bedroom + the internet... each and every god is protected by the penta titans of tartarus.

man within the confines of possessing
a heart,
seeks either the exhilaration of it,
or the patience of a learned mind
which invokes the silent heart...
but man is rarely bound to succumb
to the endeavour of an
   un-scratched uncertainity;
the "jealous" god:
                       has a scathing heart;
as man's soon becomes -
          a worthwhile mute of an argument
presented, before the democratic
liaison of opinions...
  few dare cross into this dynamic,
        only the heart chooses,
  the occupant of it cannot...
                   the heart is a fickle thing,
even among the gods...
           to make mind attuned with
the heart, is to become almost robotic...
the mind can tell you that: 1 + 1 = 2...
but the heart?
                     it has no number
on its altar...
         its impetus resides with words,
and is by words defined,
i describe god,
    i am only describing a horizontal
force... whatever horizontal means
in copernican terms...
  of an *impetus
....
   god the impetus immobilis
          (the in-stans impetus) -
how else conceive the 72 hebrew nouns,
and consolidate them into adjectives
of the omni- prefix?
    in-statio impetus...
                the rigid format of the rock...
and conerning man?
                             ex-statio impetus...
see the intro in italics.
                    i need to re-read this sober,
i used so many greek and latin prefix
deviations,
   that i'm starting to think i've written
gibberish...
                      nonetheless,
atheism becomes slightly ******* when you
mention the penta titans of tartarus...
        what i mean is that
my "definition" of god is an impetus...
i don't know either, was i born with this
disability, this "mental illness" of conjuring
up the mere notion of a god?
   i never thought that western psychiatry
cared that much about such "madmen"...
   i don't know what the cure for this "disease" is...
perhaps importing a load of muslims?
yep... that'll work... bring it on
         you ****-suckers!  you base-line
                                           ****-philiacs!
Dev Sep 2018
there are far too many holes in my shirt
he tells me, winking
he asks me if I'm cold
Would I like his jumper?
No, it's far too small.
He's far too happy
when he sits here
talking with me
and I am far too at ease.
He tells me about his dreams and plans
he talks about video games, how he stans
for skrillex, and all that dubstep stuff
and I can't even listen to it now.
He tells me his home life,
and how he was scared
He tells me about brothers
and possible sisters
He asks me how I am,
and I tell him the truth
he hangs an arm round my shoulder
he is far too comfortable with
comforting me.
But only when no one else is here
but see, now I'm embellishing
because I am not talking to him
I'm talking about him
to myself.
I'm not yet comfortable with comforting myself
and there are far too many holes in this shirt
and the story.
Sometimes I think I made it all up, I'm not entirely sure I didn't.
How many fools say they **** on every track
When they really spit wack and bars that
Don't deserve no airplay make delays once I pay
My lyrics to a vocal erase ya ****** from.the rhymes I lace so
My flows like visions of Indo slow mo see the glow mo
My diamonds even made the sun go
In hibernation changing the stations
Back to the days of real hip hop
****** these days is slop
Makin' songs like lamb chops they gets no props
Lyricism back in effect I wreck mics like car wrecks
But ain't no insurance though but rock all states i dominate pates in the deepest mindstate
I create
A catastrophe worse than Twista did to Treachery
Naughty but bounded to nature I'll cremate ya
Burn your mental with my lyrical pyro mic clenched make em fall like Domino's words subliminal Michael thriller smooth criminal so ya better sit back
Before you be slit through ya abdominal my raps phenomenal far from comical


Got the girls feedin' the bicho like pac-Man I got a war history like all the "stans"
In the arenas I pack stands
From concrete to the sand beaches my mind leeches to
The universe that teaches
Mind over matter the badder I'll shatter any who thinks they're batter
The shot gun flow accuracy I move like currency
With ties to GOV's policy no apology flows encrypt inside ya head
The mic psychology it's tragedy none could get to me instantly
They fall quick to their knees coppin' in pleas
Leave bullets massagin' ya scalp like fleas
Itching n wishin' my metals twistin' now ya finna be reminscin'
To the underworld curled up like a lil girl
These games for grown men my pen
Illustrate the worse murders
Yo I be the grims herder converter none heard of tha
Mic mafiaso like my women of cocoa
Skin let the sin ascend lustful ******' ain't no duckin'
These shots at ya melons four time veteran hang with killas who pending felons
Plot like Skeletor but ain't no failure my team's stay with W's soon to trouble you
And the crews who don't know the rules
Sit back or get dragged like a cargo with a mule
Kiss the floor like james brown moving his feet complete
Any beat that's put up agains the fleet yo I'm so **** unique
Baggy clothes with the jabos mid afro got a keep a thick bank rolls
Keep garlic for the vampire trolls wrinkled em worse than Bob Dole
Pay the toll the troll is on the bridge taxing the bids see what I did
Been made for this childish
Antics always panic I'll land it chaos to a perfection selections
Off the perfect weapon let ya head get the blessing christ listens
To the prayers of weary souls to dead let the flows be read
Wither internally or through the thoughts sped out bled
Ya self tryna maintain against the iron ghost chef the theft
Is hard to maintain wax ya brain leave a permanent stain
Who's the man once again with the steel plan racks stans
Understand I been man got more hands than Jackie chan
Lands strikes like a ****** leave ya hands with empty palms
We stay in the cut clean with the guillotine stare between
The earth and the heaven sings a violent upbring rising
The dark knight none wanna fight against the surge plight
Am I here or just a ghost in front of a mirror waiting to roast  
****** my image made a new me cover face ninja combat
Swords to bats with the raiden hats lightening ready to pat
Down ya skull valley of death shows see my unlimited rolls
Been made for war I gave Michael the Angel's scars bars
Dug from the deepest earth engraved with the girth
Dry out the haters cuz I can feel they thirst no need to rehearse
I'm breaking the curse giving ya much more than I'm worth
Crush any alliance pledge vengeance sickness
Manifest will off of the power of cannabis ya feelin' this?
I like pops from a steel death blankets laying fo real!!!
Mateuš Conrad Sep 2020
i just can't get rid of the moths...
5 for one bedroom
and... it's hardly an enterprise
in cubisms' revisionism...
daddy larva -
should i leave some
cotton for these poor
delights...
                  am i riddled with
a western "world" exhausted...
like... the pops of no new
genius?
  like polyphony was never
at play:
   when the rigour of man
made it: less of an affair that might
suggest green tea
and the superfluous
fling of a pancake at
a constellation of: nowhere...
  a crucial time for messiahs
and for caricatures...
magicians and iranian baklava bite-sized
retreats...
  not necessarily iranian:
could be lebanese!
       it's not like this grand past,
this grand history...
this inheritance tax on the mind
was to be ever borrowed from
a concentration on the trade
routes surrounding the baltic sea...
i... inherited... nada! nothing!
i acquired english when i should
have given inclination
to tsarina cyrillic and minor hector
mandarin...
       it's so unsurprising, though...
to catch up on the bbc radio 3 adventure...
to reach a platitude of i.q.:
i finally! finally!
fathomed the point of an english
soap opera... eastenders...
i didn't find an i.q. focus to mind...
a continuum perhaps...
but it has and always has been
just... ever so tiresome...
to compensate i.q. -
or to overstate it...
             it's not that i found soap opera
dumb... but after waking up
to bbc radio 3... i knew i was missing
a narrative: an assurance...
a soap opera is an assurance...
however banal the pursuit of harlequin
is...
it's there: a persistent brick upon brick:
wall!
      well... it's one compliment to hear:
that children "like" you...
that dogs or cats like you...
but... for god's sake... moths?!
i am not quiet assured a status in alignment
with a buffalo bill...

so much for nabokov
and the whole ****** and the entomologist /
etymologist...
catch them with what?
my bright oozing bulb of a phosphorescent
appreciation for the punchy cliche
goldberg variations?

to be honestly endeared by a dog...
to be made forthcoming
by a quizzical attention span of cats toying
with poker...
      but to make endearing
inquiries in the realm of insects...
who... fathomed... the flies...
a mythological man with an authentic
given name that came to be
the realisation of the myth of Beelzebub...

well... so much for sharing...
on the crux of a noun... like any other...
be it a moth... motte... ćma...
or a butterfly... schmetterling... MOTYL...
globalisation and...
well... no real etymological sensibility....

not even in sharpnel wording:
    in: w,
               im...
                        z: with, mit
o: about, um...
                      od: from, von...
so much for a shared purpose a sharing
of tattoos and ******* blisters...
like old age is a crease...
and youth an argument...
best invested in pickles...

                the ordeal of the night sky...
while having to grind a gripping
reality of something profoundly
stupid that it cannot be anything beside
stupid...
         a concept of a solitary pine...
when a pine as solitary is
impossible to fathom:
or a birch thus solo...

        an oak: while the adventures
of birches have come to their
natural advent of regrets...
           and this solo coffin shadow come
noon stans procrastinating a
show of shadows borrowed from
an overflow of the Styx...

Thames: a river... with... no authentic
tide: from mountains toward
the sea...
no... the Thames is an inauthentic river...
if it's a river to begin with...
a sea knows a concern for tide...
but a river?
a river should know no mirror
bogus "now" of a tide...
the Thames is like the Bermuda Delta...
an irrational high-rise ****...
enough to pluck one's eyes
out for...
   or don a sheikh hanky panky teasing
that 19th century morbid whitey
of celestial: wool! my eyes! needs! woolz!

some banal Clarice chasing a hunchback
Circe with a Charon towing...
impossible gravity of walking a stupendous
walk of arrogance:
this two-feet-tow...
my bucktooth and arithmetic:
theatre von der nacht:
lepper zeppelin -
   authentically lisping minor details:
an accent "here" or... "dasein"...

teatr nocy...
               ćma i jej obcy:
a moth and her other...
              like some proto-digestion
of custard and borrowed glue...
me left to my own: deus "ex" machina /
**** in machina device-works...
a concept of switzerland came
with both the tickling time-keeper
of a form of clock and some lesser
known 20th century protagonist
by the name of Young...

                  persuasions please!
i can leave my i.q. on the diatribe for
the persistent allowance
of the desired... "englishness" of:
queue...
            bread the brittle futurism of
a sanctity of bread:
beside this "thing" dubbed irish...
and gnats and breadcrumbs...
itches furthest from the last
encompassing loiter...
of a truth salvaged via
a tartare steak...
a kogiel-mogiel...

                  a bread-owned soaking
up of a spilling yoke:
like it's a french... "thing"...
teasing an affair of a wig...
best: warsaw will forever be...
an interlude of:
the concept question from
london toward tokyo...
i.e.: why can't we have nice things...
answer?
we... ahem... never had them...
we tried... vaginal ****-wit
from Brandenburg or that ****-****-wit
from lady muscovite...

here's to samson-frankenstein's monster...
the furore surrounding
the faroe islands...
the 20 thousand(s) composition
of the shetland:
united schkootland repose:
'aggis neeps 'n' tatties!

enough salz undz pfeffer
und we have haz ours...
hinderburg-esque hogmanay!
of the british:
not lived among the vilsh...
or the scuttling furore of the:
'igh 'anders...
          
cutie pie pork chop
worth a *******'s towing:
that last vanguard of / if:
              "too few"...

no... no good lending an ear
to listen to "shared": charred...
etymology of greek or russian...
London's desperate plight:
*** ordeal that never has to happen...

there have to be concerns
for calling it a new 9am...
just because it just so happens
in Edinburgh...
  there's the chopping of wood...
there's the ordeal of castratos
attired in niqabs...
the harems of the ottomans are
still a fetish for imagery best
sourced in Vienna...

            to worship the night:
is to find enough of day...
as sacrificial:
as banal... as enough...
to think with an exhaustion
of compensation:
     it's not that i dare not: dream...
but it's not enough to dream
to begin with...
i will harvest this eternal night...
to eat away at the day's
mediocre...
              mirror mirror...
             your wish for status lake...
i see no question-worthiness
in either sea or river...
how is it that i write
to fathomable formal linguo?
                  mirror in the shadow...
mirror in the lake...
murky time of river
and the hiding grey of the sea(s)...
come tide come swelling of
hinterland ambitions...
this little norse retreat of my
last perspective...
            perhaps i just want
to die a death pronounced by
having to don an agitating
pair of shoes: that demand...
towing a scenic incredulity of
a miser's mile?!

         how's that? roundabout
faroe isles! an itch of spreading butter
on... toasted bread:
notably a sourdough crusted:
new holborn sort of "adventure"...
no.. nothing new...
here's to drinking some more
while making it simultaneously
well-reserved ast having
the same inviting prospect of...
looking for:
a loot of a shakespeare and a full-stop.
Check it out, soul blacker than an iron skillet, watch me **** it,
Dump steel skin, see the blood bath within, living amongst sins,
Yo we cant be friends, stash my endz, spinz the Benz,
600 rounds to go, yo what ya know,this brother flows,
Cold as nitro, freeze all my fans high head demands, make stans
Stand this the national anthem and, fools catch a glance,
Romance any girl out of her pants, got the james brown stance,
Papas been had a new bag, waves under the du rags, toe tag,
Ya body to the price of a jag, yo this soul brother never lags mags,
Always keep it ***** ***** word to my grit, harder than Birdie,
Oh heard of me, candy man hooks ya plan move like desert sands,
Across the land terrains, rain on ya brain, seasoned ya grain,
Check the concrete stains, from the blood yo it's insane,
Raw cut *******, switch from the slow to the fast lane, mayne
Rap chapstick, for my girls moisten their Pearl's all out swirls,
Doors I blow off the hinges , cringes the average forensics,
Ballistic, blessed by the styles of the gifted, lifted flip my biscuits,
Catch my shirt lifted, tattoos represent the htown zoo,
Third ward sucka, so what cha wanna do, bang nothing but *****,
Original player, **** the nay sayers true southern caters haters,
Silk purple suit, with the matching gators, floss my mater,
Keep it clean cut, starched down to a T, finesse Mahogany  
Ain't ya average G, gangsta monopoly stay busy,
Lemon twist with the henny,bottle party like no tomorrow,
Suckas gotta borrow, rhymes just to play they times signs,
Giving to me by the unruly, hard head since I was made in bed,
Ruck us, ****** us, blamed it on mama and father why bother,
Stuck like grenade under a cotter, pin see the flows in the wind,
Comprehend, no pretend see how many kills I could pin,
Kissinger savage with the Ella blues check the deja vue woos,
The average bugaboos, watch the bugaloos, snooze crews ,
Radio edit naw forget it, spend shots on credit deeply embedded,
Wedded to this raw ****, cabbage I twist, smooth finger tips,
Lick slow, penetrate temples love girls with the deep dimples,
It could all be so simple, more bumps to jams than a pimple,
Folks play ya, like the O'Jays lover of money, honey and its funny,
Folks only out for self, tryna gain team off of somebody else,
Naw I checked myself, before I wrecked myself my health,
Is more important to follow, hard to swallow, pride hyena stride,
Searching for blood on the bones, cast the black stones,
Natural high zone, out the ozone, see me flash and I'm gone,
Sound the gong, they say I'm wrong, stage infinite armageddon,
No more letting, off I'm dreadin, the scene hot box no sweatin,
What ya throwing on, girls legs over my shoulder stroking her,
With the XL ****, ping pong her through 70s love songs,


Mighty healthy 🤷🏾‍♂️
The black Rod Serling catch my mind swirling
Autos spot those see how my plot grows snub nose
For those who rubbed me wrong Christen bongs
Enlighten my wisdom see the bones devoured
Hyena linguistics mystic way past sadistic catch it
Intellects I hang em like fed threats hard to reject
The bullets words display like a rolling marquee
Breaking news blew the fuse turn green mean
As Joe see the sparkle melanin activate create
A hulk out of a black banner avoid the scanners
Of haters undertakers bishop X-Men with the gaters
Playa made still wear Versace shade icy fade
Fresh cut living a gangsta strut critics what?
Mad cuz they ain't got the cold touch mics clutch
Destiny in my hands check the ten thou bands stans
I'm plotting til ya minds goes a rotting still stockin'
Like John ****** assist coldest dish
Sniff out the fish
Not even a snake could hiss blades of the mist dismiss
Let the iron fist do damage from the micromanage
Don't follow the R are become a dimming star
Word to any I'm gut em like a Guinea pigs split wigs
Decipher math **** rap Briggs sneaky Taye Diggs
But I'm stillthe best man with the Houston clan
There's where I lays my dome near the Astrodome
Baby we rock blades and chromes funeral homes
To haters that won't leave us alone sticks n stones
May break bones but I'll be **** if I be a clone
Out of the ozone space age gleaming objects
It's a bird in the sky naw it's just Yosef too **** high
Move minds like X professor to Malcolm how come?
Fools gravitate they own death portals spirals
Of the occultic you heard it can't reword it exert it
Lost Mohican gods of the Titan raw writing cold piping
Ya minds freaky me only to dimes no stitch of a sublime
Fall in line in youll see the devils flawless graphic design!!!
They don't care how he wrote it.
On these Stans like Maury Povich.
Said they did it for the gram, I aint talking bout the photos
Got them purple and pink coats right around the corner.
Come up like the ****** and you know it.
At the root of everything I keep on growin.
Hey reporter,
I'ma loose cannon I nuke planets
I'm on the moon planning with few manners.
Seven crown wearer and i dare ya...
Cant compare to tha
multis...
Dont need five guys...
I'm a heart break...
Solo team...
See me stream...
Up the mainstream...
Folks out for self...
So I moved left...
Right pass you...
See me blast you...
I'm not a nice guy...
Niggerish...
Black as licorice...
Take a kiss...
Slugs giving much bliss...
I got this...
******* rap critics...
Make us look stupid...
Ripped Cupid...
Shot his own arrow...
Heart the pharaoh...
Let my people go...
Slow stroll...
Gangsta rock...
Grab my rocks...
My nuts hanging on...
Word is bond...
This aint a song...
This a freestyle wild...
Problem child...
Take hit of this witness...
Magnificence....
Suckas think they the ****
Til they get hit...
Brains shocked somebody...
Call the cops...
911 is a joke if you want smoke...
Let me bring ya to another...
Note...
Raw anidote as i coat...
Brain cells...
This aint jingle bells you cast...
Spells im crying shells...
Shot gun...
Souls run a marathon...
By the ton...
Ghengis Khan...
Big like pun and bun...
Number one...
Underground legend
Standing...
On sacred ground see me
Flip this pounds...
Key in the melody...
Lyrical felonies...
Got me doing studio time...
rhymes fine...
Scoup up the baddest dimes...
If you want next better
Have yo sets...
Empty threats emotion rejects...
Now see niggardry project...
Select...
A Tyson blow feel the knockout
Below six feet ya go...
So know ya role...
Jabronis cappin' at me unlock...
The god in me supreme...
Deity...
Take a good look at me...
Its the rise...
Of a black man black stans...
Woodstock...
69 high off that pine...
Beating all fine...
Grand design...
Family matters so **** chit chatters...
Real man wrong one to **** with
Space age Dre say...
What i wanna say...
I'm Malcolm's AK waiting to spray...
Machine gun lyricist
So you'll feel this...
Led paintist the greatest...
Your fate is...
Running ina thin line...
Im just another divine...
You just a feline...
Culture vultures i hate em...
******* cater 'em...
Back to '75 n you'll see hip hop
Layin' em...
Kool herc in the building...
Vibrating the ceiling...
Dial 1800 toll free billing...
Dice of poltergeist...
Third jewel heist...
Far from the nice heads i spliced...
Pineapple Express to see the christ..
Heads i got em bobbin'...
Asking about jobs...
And who they can rob but they don't want no problems...
Riaan Dec 2023
Dear Matthew, I wrote to you, it’s been 23 years.
I heard about Stan back when you were 6…
God, you’re almost 30 now, I pray you’re surrounded by peers.
His death must have hit you hard, like a brick.

It’s Ironic, “all he wanted was a lousy letter or a call.”
I can’t help thinking, did you rip those posters off too?
Or maybe I made him crazy, he was basically writing to a wall.
I hoped it would reach him in time,
Fingers crossed, tight as my hugs with Hailie Jade.
I was sure he’d be doing “just fine.”
But before I sent that letter the thought already started to fade.

Dear Marshall, I’m doing alright, how about you?
I knew you meant the best for my brother,
I really do.
I would have saved his stuff but why bother?
The memories remained, the good ones like buying your new albums.
The bad like a strong scented wine stain.
Regardless of emotion they both ripped me like talons.
Luckily I learnt to take it as a rice grain.

Dear Matthew, I’m good thanks for asking.
You know, its funny reading your brothers letters again but still,
It must have consumed you whole, having to grow up alone - multitasking.
I could feel his joy turn to anger faster than an addict popping a pill.

Dear Slim, it feels weird remembering him.
You remember how he was going to name his daughter that?
My wife’s pregnant too Slim!
I’m thinking of naming him after you, my wife agreed as I gave her belly a gentle pat.

Dear Matthew, I’ll say this again, I’m really flattered you’d call him that.
Does he want an autograph?
Maybe on a starter cap,
Just like you.

Dear Slim, I’m sorry its been a while since I wrote,
I’ve just been busy, I bet you have too.
Anyways, gotta go, I’m almost at the hospital to lower fatherhoods moat.
But it’s the birth of Stans reincarnation, named after you.
- Riaan Parmar

— The End —