Friday, January 29, 2010

Ill rhyme patterns.

The brown skin king to drop poems off the dome,
crown me, do not clown me, I am down, get busy,
bring the sound kid, from the underworld, No bid,
get rid of snitches, we all got eyes on riches,
many ended up in ditches, money is the root of all evil like witches,
I am not rude at all, step correct when you approach me,
foes frozen I roast you with toast,
ghost you with poems, it is known like flavour of prawn,
do the dirt by my lone some, act grown and mind your tone, son.

grammar sling the thug thing, the rapping ritual of superior spiritual,
witness the slickness, the remedy for the sickness,
the convo is thick, betting not or sweating,
the ill rhyme patterns, form here to Manhattan,
fly ladies in satin

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