Tuesday, January 26, 2010

The divine glock nine called rap.

Eyes on the ocean view, sun tan lotion,
for my skin, and I begin with ill sentences,
deeper than Rollie and a Benz mind state,
I stay laced with dopest beats and spit,
in a hype, the type you never seen before,
you need to explore all about the Asian,
It is not all about paper chasing,
Destroy Satan, with the divine glock nine,
called rap, the metaphorically all that,
fall back you fools, I represent the Now school,

You Rainman, eating swine and cause you know the girl next door,
thinking you are playing man, I am slain ehh, you laim ass,
this rap no politics of scholar ships, streets are involved,
so guns blow, sons run though, stay where you be at,
rats can not step in a dope manner, smell the gunpowder of smoking hammers,
the dope rap kid holding down the nation, PraShawn snap your neck like prawn dome,
no more home grown.

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