Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership



Best Hip Hop Poems

Below are the all-time best Hip Hop poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of hip hop poems written by PoetrySoup members

Search for Hip Hop poems, articles about Hip Hop poems, poetry blogs, or anything else Hip Hop poem related using the PoetrySoup search engine at the top of the page.

Definition & Discussion of Hip Hop Poems
Read Hip Hop Poems

See also: Best Famous Poems

New Hip Hop Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best Hip Hop poems are below this new poems list.

I miss hip hop by Duffy, Alex
hip hop raised me by Duffy, Alex
Old Time Hip Hop by Nance, Casarah
HIP HOP AND HOMEBOYS by curtis futch jr, kurtis scott aka
HIP HOP IS IN by curtis futch jr, kurtis scott aka
hip hop won't die by Schropp, Jason
Letter To Hip Hop Cabinet Members by Ngomane, Raymond
HIP HOP IS IN by curtis futch jr, kurtis scott aka
Hip-Hop by Gigno, ...
WHY HIP HOP by curtis futch jr, kurtis scott aka

View all new Hip Hop Poems

The Best Hip Hop Poems

Details | Hip Hop Poem | |

Before and After

Bust to the extreme 
And collide with your foes 
Be ruthless and heartless
When smash on them hoes 
Leave no stone unturned 
When your searching for a "snatch"
Always be ready 
To smash that ass 
Cause they sneaky as **** 
Waiting patiently for you to slip 
Or get down on your luck 
Then you looked surprised 
When your ass gets stuck
Like how could this happen 
How could this be 
They said they would have my back
Always 
Always and tomorrow
Are two in the same 
Cause when you wake up tomorrow 
Its today 
And always is cool 
Till it comes time for change 
And that's all I'm gonna say 
You seek fortune 
And you seek fame 
Then your a prime target
For them bogus lames 
And trifling dames 
That try to get at you in the beginning
So they can snatch your change 
When you do make a name 
Its all the same 
Every mother****ing day 
But u *****es ain't slick 
Cause you all look fake 
Like a ***** with teary eyes 
You know she got raped 
And took against her will 
Just cause some ***** ass punk 
Needed a thrill 
Well meet your maker 
I got a deal 
Cause sent down in my presence 
And your soul will get drilled 
Chilled and chopped up 
And diced up into a meal 
For the dogs to eat
Now am I keeping it real 
Or just real ill 
My fates already been sealed 
You silly bastard 
I'm on the chopping block 
And all you hear is my laughter 
Before and after 
The rapture
*****!

More great poems below...


Details | Hip Hop Poem | |

Shawty Got Swag

$hawty Got $wag
Shawty got swag, Shawty mad dope. Face all cheesin’, She real turned up. Goin’ to da club, She steppin' wit her peeps, Lookin’ so ratchet, She’s straight up hoochie.
No racks in her pocket, No stacks in her wallet, But she all into bubbly Slurpin’ and burpin’. Lookin for a big baller, Who’ll give her wat she wants, Wildin’ on the dance floor, Tweakin’ an’ freakin’, Shawty actin' so cra cra! She just like da rest a dem, But Shawty real fly, Sure likes a lotta ice, Bling bling, and Benjamins.
Shawty creepin’ to hook up Coz she needs a boo wit finesse, Who’ll give her Yves St. Laurent, 5-star hotels, and 5-star restaurants. Shawty off the chain, Shawty off the hook, She got game and she’s aight! Shawty da bomb - fuh real!!!
Entered in contest “Ebonics – Let’s Do Some Slang" sponsored by Verlena S. Walker (8-18-2014). Some Terms and Definitions: shawty – a young attractive female; dope – cool, nice, awesome; swag – style; turn up – excited; mad – really a lot; peeps – friends, close pals; baller – a thug that made it in the big time; racks/stacks– lots of money; aight – alright; wildin’– to go crazy, acting out of control; cra cra – crazy; tweakin’/freakin’ – dancing provocatively and moving around out of control; cheesin’ – smiling; finesse – man who has swag and can spend a huge amount of money; ratchet – ghetto diva; creepin’ – sneaking about; bubbly – champagne; bling bling – expensive flashy jewelry; Benjamins – hundred dollar bills; boo – one’s lover; da bomb – the best of the best; game – skills; ice – expensive flashy jewelry usually diamonds or jewelry with diamonds; off the chain/off the hook – excellent, fantastic, awesome; fly – cool, in style; hook up – getting together with someone romantically; hoochie – a female who dresses trashy; straight up – absolutely, really.

Details | Hip Hop Poem | |

Dig it baby

You think this is a joke, I ain't playin'
Listen to these words, get what I'm sayin'
It's a fast life livin' in the in between
Makin' it rain, bein' the poetry queen.
Detroit is still in my blood, a'ght
I'll stick with it when I gotta fight.
I'd rather spin these words with flava
Here's some spice baby, ya gotta savor.

Poetry is mixing the grammar of the world
Twistin' the races, pleasin' faces words curled.
Creating like a spins in the wind, its demanding
Life's becoming one with love and understanding.

With a fresh beat bodies get groovy baby
You dig this, cuz I dig you like crazy.
Oh ya you gotta feel somethin' when I control.
Look at the stars in the sky I just stole.
In your eyes now babe they've gotta shine.
One world, a million hearts, feelin' so fine.
No need to be talkin' **it, just give some love
And thank the world and the God above.

Poetry is mixing the grammar of the world
Twistin' the races, pleasin' faces words curled.
Creating like a spins in the wind, its demanding
Life's becoming one with love and understanding.

So ya get it now, see why I'm always geeked,
Hatin' is for the society that is weeked.
Love, and words thats what I am playin'
Dig it baby, that's what I am sayin'


For Contest: Ebonics
Sponsor: Verlena Walker
Date: 07-25-2014

Details | Hip Hop Poem | |

YOUNG WICKED AND BLACK

I thought of one of my nephews before I wrote this, God bless him please

He's from a western land where the hustla's real,
And the thugs'll steal,
Brothers'll kill for the love o' bills,
Tryin' to get a mill[million],
Means much blood'll spill

So his forte's to scheme & die fo',
Gettin'that cream[money] & lie low,
Then hittin' up his rivals
An eye for an eye
and dealin' with street survival,

Makes him drift back to his childhood,
When it was much peace & all good,
But now he gets no sleep
He creeps deep in foul hoods,
Where bodies get chalked & the crowd stood,

In amazement,
Witnessin' homicide engravements on the pavements,
Too much of this misbehavement,

Has the communities decaying
and too many youngsters fall before their prime,
And the harsher the crime, steeper the prison time,

But he was born a product in a wicked jungle,
Bred to run amongst those who are far from humble,
And addicted to makin' they're funds grow,
And plus they're quick to stun those,

Who gets victimized by the hoods jurisdiction,
A whole slew of unsolved crimes
with very few convictions,
And justice is missin',
Because this lifestyle is opposite of fiction,

So he marches through ghetto life
with his hard hat & boots on,
Still focussed on gettin' his loot on,
While killers get their shoot on,
Many of them shoot wrong,
So innocent bystanders been dying for too long,
But he continues to move on,
As 1 of the Young, Wicked & Black

Details | Hip Hop Poem | |

My Micke boys

                To be called ..
            ~   Grandma is a Honor ~

        I have been blessed with 4  Grandchildren

       ~ one lays in Heaven " Kaleb "  He is God's Angel ~
   ~ His twin brother he will always watch over , and be in his soul~

     For he loved his Brother so much in the womb ,
       he chose Heaven which gave life to his twin
      ~ I feel his spirit when I see the other Grandson ~
 
              Time passed another gift to see
               we are " Mickes" and Loved 
            Our Dad held the title in Baseball 
                   ~  that's how we roll ~
           those children are Grandmas hero's 

       The Irish they love big and Family is everything 
        The brothers will protect the beautiful sister 
              ~ as many lads will be calling ~

        Every time my Grandson hits a home run
     There will be a Angel watching proudly in the stand 

       It will be as if the Angel lifted him when he runs 
           ~no one runs faster then my Grandson~
     either baseball or Art  ~ you shall find your gift given

                These children have been blessed~
                 ~  a beauty to hard to describe 
        If you think not ~~  Take a look at the Mom  
                     That girl can stop Traffic   
                    after raising three and still~ 

          "Inspired by the gift and loss of Grandchildren "

     May our precious " Kaleb " softly rest where Angels only Dwell

More great poems below...


Details | Hip Hop Poem | |

Kartoon Knuckles

Draped and locked like a curtain in Guantanamo
I use my words to peel scalps like Geronimo
Just like a teen girl my mouth has a heavy flow
If arousal luminesces then I'll make you glow

They're calling me a villain cuz I steal girls like Bowser
Wowzer, think I just filled my trousers
Though unlike the lizard I don't lose them to Italians
Cuz after one night girls confuse me for a stallion

Heart of obsidian inlaid with gold
A tongue of adamantium that stays so cold
My life is a story that's never been told
And I'm hoping that the credits roll before I get old

Details | Hip Hop Poem | |

The Fork in the Road

I can give a chick an option
And she'll pick the other path
Just to divide herself 
Like she out here doing math
Calculating all the ways things can go bad
She don't understand happiness
Cause she's used to being sad
I grab her by the hand
And slightly stroke her on the face
Tell her I want to be her man
But to this touch, she can't relate
She stuck in the past
But we've all made mistakes
She think all I want is ass
But I'll work hard for 1st base
Just to round 2nd 
After days of going on dates
I want to slide home
But for her, I have to wait
I'm ol skool baby
I do things a different way
Been retired my jersey
I ain't got no time for games
I love a good challenge
So I play to win
I'm trying to be your future
So my time, I present
Your beauty is a present
Let me bask your presence
I want you to be my woman
So let me be your man

Details | Hip Hop Poem | |

Get Me Some Of That

Flippin' through the pages of a magazine,
Tryin' out being a super beauty queen.
Doin' all the do's, painting my nails just right,
Dressin' up, goin' out, party is on tonight.

 Get me some of that, a hip pop star beat,
Get me some of that, make me move my feet.
Body rockin', show stoppin' heart poppin' where's it at!
Hottie blue eyes come in closer and give me some of that!

Drinkin' up with your dollars, I got a thirst
Gettin' jealous of my skills, them girls the worst,
We're all here to party, No drama just dance,
Tonight I'm drinkin' the flavors of chance.

 Get me some of that, a hip pop star beat,
Get me some of that, make me move my feet.
Body rockin', show stoppin' heart poppin' where's it at!
Hottie blue eyes come in closer and give me some of that!

Get me some of that baby, share with me what you got,
Give me some of that heat baby, cuz boy you make me hot.



09-23-2014

Details | Hip Hop Poem | |

Hip Hop

Hip hop is more than your understanding of culture
Its not your educated last in the middle of all crowded thighs
Hip hop starts in the heart of love to find its way to the centre of your ears 
Fears mix wordy tears in group hugging moments 
Refining spears

It’s a movement with no legs moving emotional heads
Walking dreams recurring all faulty streams 
Browsing voices not chances 
It’s a movement with no legs moving dreams 

This motionless movement move souls from distant opinions 
Rated the most hated social responsive act
Hip hop pops the middle of an issue with no tissue 
Its not a battle but it battles to make sence of its battles
Raising fists on air waves paving wordy roads 
Written in future tense 

It does what it must with no musters degree
The heat of rhythms to all predicted stormy seasons 
Unbelievable but few truly view why hip hop pops issues with no tissue 
Very few flew 
Over the clouds of good hip hop music deep kissing issues 


Hip hop is more than your understanding of culture
Its not your educated last in the middle of all crowded thighs
Unbelievable but few truly view why hip hop pops issues with no tissue
But that’s my understanding from crocodiles that had standing ovations 
Attacked by microphone visits

Microphone visits
Microphone visits
Microphone visits


(c) Raymond Ngomane

Details | Hip Hop Poem | |

KILL A BEAT 2

I bring hit after hit like a boxer
You haters' inconsistent
Everybody's on the same vibe
Mine's kinda' different
Verse hot, hook hot--
I'm gon' sellout soon as I drop
Verse hot, hook hot--
I'm gon' sellout soon as I drop

Minor in poetry, fine-arts major

Doctor goon on deck, call this a fear-factor

I'm going in, but I ain't got no curfew

I son a lot of you, it's like I birth you

Got a lot of verses, but this ain't a Bible

Fallout when you hear this, I ain't liable

Ain't talking 'bout tearing, but the beats R.I.P

Didn't sell a lot of tracks, but I got D.O.E

Put you up on game, my hustle's M.O.E

Music over everything, ain't moving 'D'

I got cash like the bank, I sell CD's

Smells funny, tickled my nose, I might sneeze

You would think I'm water, the way I flow

I'm just like some dynamite, bound to blow

Act like you're in a recliner, lay back

If I ain't on fire, then why they say that?

Feature, feature, can I get a feature

So far ahead I sit on competition--bleacher

My Raps' like a bunch of apartment buildings, complex

Got chicks on my jock', ain't talking 'bout sex

I'm so different, it's magnificent

Haters want me to fall, but that's not how the script went

Thing's fishy, I ain't gettin' caught in that net

Just killed the beat, without breaking a sweat

Details | Hip Hop Poem | |

My Boat

A boat floating on this endless ocean of poetry/
Carrying the generation of free verse/
Lion smiles on their faces
A journey to their brains when this photographic poetry spit poisonous truth/
Roof of their brains shield under dreaded brains/
Who speaks for your lips
When they keep spitting in your face/
A nation sucking your tears dry
Nobody knows you cry
You die unconsciously
Your poetry expires
You speak for the mute
Puke unspoken poetry
Corner of your brain knows nobody knows you cry
Unconsciously the bridge of life you jump
You lie
You keep away from eyes that reflect shadows of your spirit in poetry/
Ride my boat and live it/

Details | Hip Hop Poem | |

hip hop raised me

Hip-hop raised me
I remember beefs between Big and Tupac, game and 50, Nas and Jay Z
Listening to N.W.A, Nas, Big Pun, Rakim and AZ
From LL cool J, Tupac to Slim Shady

A lot of dead rappers and it fills me with sadness
An industry filled with madness
Studying straight outta Compton, amerikkkas most wanted, blueprint and illmatic
Some say they could only listen to eminem when he was a pill addict

They say he fell off with recovery
This is something that troubles me
You don’t like it when a rapper does something different
But if he stayed the same you’d say he has no vision

Hip-hop is filled with enough lies
Some of you should stop freestyling and just write
A lot of people didn’t understand what tupac meant by Thug life
It’s such a shame he was killed by Suge Knight

Suge owed Tupac millions, & when Dre left death row he was owed royalties
I guess Suge chose money over loyalty
Now de.dre is hip-hops first billionaire
This is great with the foundation he’s been building here

The greatest producer of all time
Even if he doesn’t write his own rhymes
Gave us Eazy E, Snoop, Em, and Game
So we will always remember his name

I always preferred lyrics over beat
Or the perfect mixture like “Shook ones” by Mobb Deep
But hip-hop has had a lot of one hit wonders
Gone after having the biggest song of the summer

Nas said hip-hop was dead
And it still needs sorting out
Have always been a hip-hop head
And it’s being revived by Immortal Technique, J.cole and Slaughterhouse

Eminem carried hip-hop for so long
I’m sure he must be suffering withy back pain
Some can’t name a run DMC, big daddy Kane, or Rakim song
They think G-unit created the rap game

But 50 was more interested in clothes and sneakers
Greatest diss song of all time?
300 bars, no Vaseline or ether
Greatest album? It was written has to be mine

I learnt more from Hip-hop than I did school books
Like there’s no such thing as half-way crooks
Was about 11 when Nas made you look
Hip-hop I could never get enough

But now I’m worried about the state of hip-hop
There’s only a few who can bring it back
Can’t listen to YMCMB, Gucci mane or Rick Ross
Or these who make up dances because they can’t rap

Hip-hop saved my life
Nas, Em, Tupac, Big L. Big pun Wu Tang Clan
Some of the greatest to touch the mic
It helped me grow from a boy to a man 

Details | Hip Hop Poem | |

Yung MCs

Hook: Here's the truth. We gon shine. Yung MCs and that's no lie. Coming up. To our door. Yea we got them flows galore. (Repeat x4)         Verse: Guess who just jumped on the phone. Riding to a new metronome. With his sickish flows. He's hysterical. So scientific, alchemical. And everyone knows I'm genuine. I'm stacking do like innuen. Time for you to tell all your friends that this yung mc is stepping in. The rap game poor. Needs a switch in economics. Cuz a lot of these suckas still talking bout the chronic. Youthful intelligence, call it Malcolm in the middle. You old brothers sit down. Try to learn to widdle. Cuz these yung MCs gonna leave you frikazied.  We a whole new breed. Give the people what they need.  We a brand new sound. From a dusty ghost town. Reborn from the ashes. It had burned to the ground. This yung brother yurns. For the world to hears his words. Because the rap nowadays is so absurd. But I assure you this. When I walk into the room. Put my mouth to the mic. And straight up kill it on a tune. I'll come with a style that'll match any vet. Rhymes way swift  5 blade like Gillette. The level I stand will never be met. Cuz you fly bird. Yet I fly jet. And honestly when we on the scene you hear the sickest similes. Slicing beats with symmetry that cause the haters ears to bleed. I take the light you try to keep. Cuz all your words are obsolete. It's night-night. Time to sleep. Close the crypt. Rest in peace.

Details | Hip Hop Poem | |

i wanna be creative

i want to be creative 
but sometime i am negative
damn someone turn me positive 
to make me feel am a good native

listen to me bb no one can be great
only if you now how to make the beat 
beat the best and u never take a set
cuz everyone well the bad freaky beast

Details | Hip Hop Poem | |

freak

some ppl call me freak
damn i think theyr from the Greece
why do not u suck my dick
to know who is the freak

shit you want to be great
but u can not run for 10 feet
u know get back and take a set
and learn from all over the best


Details | Hip Hop Poem | |

WHO AM I

I am a child of the palace
Living like a slave
So that these human can relate
That fate
Never comes in a sliver plate
My life is great
No spoon, give me a spade

I am a winner without a race
A stubborn stain you can’t erase
I am known without a face
Set free without a case
When I get lost
I’m sketched and never traced

Too believe or not to
Is a choice
So to me, God is a choice

That inner voice 
That refuses to shut up 
When nobody is listening
Life is not a math problem
So I never looked for solutions
When I smile, it means I’m happy
When I cry, it means I’m alive

I was born 
But never raised
I am adored
But never praised
I am a child of that palace
Living like a slave
So that you can relate

That human are born to be loved 
And things are made to be used
But now things are loved 
And you and I are being used
And now we are confused
Over what we’ve become
Objects of envy hate and blame

I am a solder without ammo
I am the white keys in your piano
I am the fragrance in your flower garden
The only blessing from the curse of Eden

I was schooled but never taught
I was fooled but never caught
I was hated but never abated
Betrayed but never delayed 
Discriminated but never serrated,
Crowned but never celebrated
Mistaken but never regretted
I am a nightmare
That was never unrevealed

I am a gift wrapped up in a small curse
A jewel in life’s golden purse
A bird with wet wings
Waiting for the sun rays
So I can fly
And dance in the sky


I am the mirror
The reflection of what I am
And not who I am 
So who am I?

Details | Hip Hop Poem | |

racism

sometime i work so hard
but a kind of ppl make it bad
thats make me feel so deep sad
you know i just laugh on dm laud 

some of dm think they'r British
shit weak up ur just like a bitch 
u can't handle it so u just scratch
ur self cuz u losz ur dream nd u can't  catch

Details | Hip Hop Poem | |

Did I waste my time

At first school was cool
Had to abide by one simple rule
Read and write
And never fight
Recite the alphabet
How easy can it get?
One plus one is two
A E I O U
Two times two is four
D O O R spells door
Maths was about addition and subtraction
Multiplication and division
Studied animals and apes
And all them shapes
Circles and triangles
Squares and rectangles
Pentagons, hexagons
Septagons, octagons
Nonagons and decagons
Then I grew a little and things got tough
The stuff got a bit rough
School became boring
Talk of junior-high bullying
I got scared and
The maths got weird
Areas and volumes
Cones and pyramids
Cords and sectors
Quantities and vectors
Pi r squared?
Half times base times height?
No way I’m getting these right
Positives and negatives
Radius and diameter
Areas, perimeters
Voltmeters and ammeters
More and more shapes
Rhombus, star and trapezium
Physics and chemistry
Lithium and helium
Biology and history
Mussolini, Hitler and Stalin,
And the famous wall of Berlin
I thought I was done
But things got less fun
I started to debit and credit
Economics and statistics
Differentiation and intergration
Poisson and normal distribution
Assignments, projects and dissertations
Now I’ve got the diplomas and degrees
But guess what
I’m just a poet
Now, tell me
Did I waste my time?

Details | Hip Hop Poem | |

Santas Responsibility Rap

Santa’s Responsibility Rap
Loch David Crane 
July 2, 2006

Santa's jolly all year long
	he’s such a happy soul;
but if ya ever cross him
	he’ll put you in a hole.

Santa’s very red and white
	he knows who's good and bad.
His character assessment
	shows us what a life you’ve had.

So obey your Mums and Daddies
	and the helpful officers too
then we can jail the bad guys
	and help each other through.

We write laws to protect us all,
	both powerful and least;
 treat others as you treat yourself,
	respecting all, is best.

But if you sass your Daddy,
	or the officer ignore,
expect a swat upon your rump
	or SWAT outside your door.

Ol' Santa reads the crime reports
	on a computer he refused
to deliver to a bad boy
	whose trust had been abused.

He's read your blog on Facebook
	and he knows what's in your heart:
so "you better be good for goodness’ sake"
	or your gifts will all depart.

Santa doesn't like bad boys
	or messes on the floor.
He doesn't have to forgive you
	and he doesn't have to bring more.

For Santa reflects what you give to others
	and whom you choose to be;
because only a pleasant person 	
	gets dreams beneath his tree.

A loud, or stubborn, or spoiled child
	sees an empty cactus tree;
a helpful, cheerful, giving kid
	is a joy that Santa sees.

You must think as much of others
	as you do just for yourself
if you want to see those goodies
	coming towards you off the shelf.

 'Cause Santa isn't Jesus,
	that's why he keeps a list
of happy little readers
	and those in whom he's disappointed.	

Santa doesn't love you all
	or listen when you pray--
just good behavior is the key
	for toys on Xmas day.

"What's the X in Xmas?"
	trembling little voices cry.
X is an unknown value
	until you steal or lie.

For Santa isn't Jesus,
	he's an atheist you see –
he dispenses voluntary gifts
	underneath his pagan tree.

He doesn't owe you anything,
	 his gifts are from the heart..
He judges your behavior
	and each year is a new start.

As you behave, so shall you be	
	rewarded by St. Nick;
but if you're bad the year before
	then coal will be his trick.

What goes around comes back around
	and what was old is new;
When you give respect to others
 	it returns increased to you.

Details | Hip Hop Poem | |

Dirty Old Man

Wotcha doin alookin at me dat way?
I can see you old enough an you wanna play.
Well let me tell ya sistah I may be a senior mistah
But I still know how to play.

Baby.     I'ma dirty old man.
A Dirty old man. 
I'm a Dirty old man you mama warned you about.

Dirty old man.

Wotcha doin alookin at me dat way?

Wotcha doin alickin on you lip at me?
I can tell you hot enough an want me t'see.
Well let me tell ya sistah I may be a senior mistah
But I still know what I see.

Baby.     I'ma dirty old man.
A Dirty old man. 
I'ma Dirty old man you mama warned you about.

Dirty old man.

Wotcha doin alickin on you lip at me?

Dirty old man. Dirty old man. Dirty old man.

I'ma dirty old man.
A Dirty old man. 
I'ma Dirty old man you mama warned you about.

Details | Hip Hop Poem | |

for the listening

heres a brush, dont comb your hair
no need for touch, pictures float in air
words paint an image, with room to spare
skull cap open, bowl full of rare
no fools allowed, deep thoughts out loud
bow when I finished, no bowing down
no cowing out, holy cow sound
sacrificed lamb, ostracized bound
break ground no ground hogs found
clouds still there, shadows over town
colossus in distance, silver in a crown
rainstorm for a hat, shower till i drown
no ark necessary, I go with the flow
all art especially made with pain and soul
blood in the mix, sweat for the christening
hugs over sex, I don't rap for the listening

Details | Hip Hop Poem | |

Goin' In

G-O-I- to the N. These 4 letters fill my head and that point I do begin. To go in and bust a ryhme. Come with a bong and you're right on time. To see my quickness, watch my shine and see me snap on every line. Through the course of this beat, I'll try to demonstrate. How everytime I jump on a track, I seem to defacate. And literate the coldness that I epitimate. Let's get it straight. I'm up on my way to the top and all my opponents I will eliminate. I see the game today and I must say it's a shame to mention. they're ryhming street with meat but lack a true flowwer's intuition. they're just spitting about the money and how they're looking so legit. And you say that you're running the streets well I'm about to take your jurisdiction. Because i never run out of breath. Can't you see that I'm clearly insane. Because this state of excessive dilirium has got me on a campaign. To get my streets from out of their sleep. And have them bopping to the beat. It's a renasance full of ambionce. And bovine hide free. It's a party and I'm the host. But the rest you've yet to see. Go by name of Intel The Brain. Or you could just call me I.T.B. Or you can call me that brother that can go up in the sky and have a mass celabration. Homie call it higher than thy. The skills that I sketch in this sonat, so horribly toxic. That if put inside of a missle and you launch it, call it atomic. And if you did'nt understand it then you need to run it back. Because I just plainly showed you how to go in on a track.

Details | Hip Hop Poem | |

5150

A mercenary 
Of dreams 
A master 
Of schemes
Good with a pen
And I run with feigns 
I wont have to pay to get you hit
They'll do it for free
But that's my thing 
So don't try to copy my style 
Cause believe me 
I can write a hell of allot more wild
Give me a second and I'll write it
Some *****
That could get a mother****er indicted
Or sited 
On the grounds of insanity 
********* it 
Whats another fifty-one-fifty 
To add to the stack 
In fact 
Drop the act 10 and give me act 3 
Cause I'm no longer temporary 
I need to get paid 
Ha ha if y'all don't know what I'm talking about then google the shit

Details | Hip Hop Poem | |

The Vent

im livin in a world, where all eyes on me.
trying to curve my own route.
but route 66 keeps finding its way to me.
ive been plenty sick, in all the events layed before me.
even when i reflect to my lowest points
i dont regret any of the choices
That I’ve deployed in my era
A lot of it by error, but hey
We live in hell conditions and there ain’t no air condition 
Or any guidelines when life throws you in the sidelines
But when hindsight twenty twenty hits
You’ll begin to understand life’s a bunch of equations and you in the mix of it
An you’ll have to think twice, before running into a situation and becoming the best of it
Situations
it’s what got me here, it’s what got us here
Ran with my thoughts blazing up to her place and
Guess what happened next
She opened up heaven’s gate
And just before late I slipped out
Simply put 
I’m a Grown ass man
Doin his thing, waitin to blow up like an old land mine
In doin what he drools over
But time after time 
Something decides to creep up and cover the light
Lost my way
Then I revoked to ever know, I ever thought that way
But in the in between time, that in the mean time 
Spent a lot of time
Gettin pissed off just to medicate and lift off
Don’t need Don Perion to sip off
Already had my way with the bottle
Even thought to get back with the trouble and rejoin the hustle
That’s just what happens to a man who really knows his old ways
Whos tired of making ends meet and ponders getting back to the streets.
Memory sets in and he remembers an O.G. saying
No matter how tall your pockets stand when you ball
Eventually times gonna make you fall
Fall
And I as I pull myself together 
I don’t wanna end up like the twin towers rubble
I mean no offence to nine eleven but at that time I probably could have used a reverend
But all that’s irrelevant now
because i live with a different perspective now

there you go you made it to the end :-) comment if you like, constructive criticism wanted as well.

Details | Hip Hop Poem | |

not for the weak minded

First of all my pens crazy
You want to know where she’s been lately?
She’s being held hostage by a man who loves Jason Voorhees and who’s as insane as Slim Shady
My pen vs whatever weapon you want to bring baby
You better pray, I’m a predator
Get offended by what I say, I’m not regular
Think of the most offensive thing to say to an editor
I dare you to try and censor me
I used to act sensibly
But I removed all of the sense in me
I’m so far ahead my shadow is resenting me
Some people will be offended by what I say in this verse
I knew Hip-Hop as dead when I saw Kanye West wearing a skirt
He may aswell of went all the way & wore Kim Kardashian panties and handbag
What’s happened to today’s rappers it’s too damn sad
I know Tupac and Biggie are turning in their grave
I put all of my hurting on the page
Walking my path and searching for a place
But I’m not begging god to let me find it
They laughed cause I’m dyslexic, 2 fingers up but I’m not peace signing
This is not for the weak minded
I’m not normal please get away fast
Not trying to fit in so stay back
Is he allowed to say that?
Quit being so sensitive
They’re just words
Here let me add a few cuss words
Taking my life is the only way you can be preventing it
Till then I’ll say what I like
The day I hold my tongue, will be the day that I die
When I’m sleeping in a ditch
Cut my tongue out and send it to Michelle Keegan as a gift
Hopefully this is some romantic gesture she’s never seen
Cause this is the most thoughtful for a girl I’ve ever been
My minds broke 
I apologise if there’s any typos
I wrote this with my eyes closed
I’ll keep writing until the day Santa is proved to be real
Because Tupac left his genius to me in his will