Tuesday, December 29, 2009

Poetry in motion.

No topic, I got it lock like a target,
Spark the market with hard hits,
Get the heads nodding, bugging out like A.T.C.Q,
The new sound, the few are chosen to check my,
Poetry in motion, the ocean flow,
Low in the driver seat, no heat,
No weed, light a Cuban, peace to my peeps.

Rappers grab the mic can not drop,
The props getting top-notch hip hop,
They brag about drops and yachts,
I rock spots and groove to the beats,
And make the dance floor hot,
Move your feet, yes indeed,
The species from Garden of Eden.

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