Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership


Best Rap Poems

Below are the all-time best Rap poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of rap poems written by PoetrySoup members

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

Definition & Discussion of Rap Poems
Read Rap Poems

See also: Best Famous Poems

New Rap Poems

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

Gym Rat Rap by minisce, tyler
Baby Rap by Brant, Alaska
Bad Rap by Terry, Janece
Why i hate Rap haters, but love Poetry by Ngomane, Raymond
Dirty South Rap by Jacks, Timothy
message to the youth of rap culture by Baez, Sebastian Aaron
Gregorian Chant Rap by Wilson, Chaim
Ronny Rap by Lamoureux, Richard
In today's society a Rap by Marly, Bobb
Santas Responsibility Rap by Crane, Loch David

View all new Rap Poems

The Best Rap Poems

Details | Rap 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
*****!

Copyright © Justin Waddle

More great poems below...


Details | Rap Poem | |

Rhythm i

Old ideas, more like character defects--
no way to pay bills or get paychecks.
Mind-aching explosion,
put up the road blocks,
ticking like a time bomb or a grandfather clock.
Time's up, make a decision,
something you can live with--
space just to breathe and enough room to pivot.
Exquisite provisions--
invaded by religion.
Predicaments that can change one's whole way of livin'.
Conditions, 
they can make you
or absolutely break you.
Be wise with the lifestyle and morals that you take to.
Make haste not to
delay the truth inside the prelude
and maybe one day you
will finally have a breakthrough.

Copyright © K. Patrick Schaffer


Details | Rap Poem | |

Make this life easy

How long will it take for you to see
Life is just an illusion, it’s gonna pass eventually
The flesh is just a lie
Eventually you’re gonna die
But your soul will live on
Rejoice in this don’t mourn
God made you to die 
It’s why you were born
Last night GOD spoke to me
Your pain will end soon, so brother don’t worry
This world will soon pass
None of this is gonna last
But the word of GOD will live on
From the dusk till the dawn, on, on and on
He said pity the living, not the dead
I replied back to him
I meant no disrespect and this is what I said
Imma hold my head high and do my part until the end

So make this life easy
This life is just a lie
Soon you’re gonna die 
So why you killin him for
He’s just another brother, another lost soul
Just make this life easy
Just make this life easy
Just make this life easy
Just make this life easy

Sister and brothers on streets
Instead of helping them get on their feats
We’re worrying about ourselves
It’s an endless cycle
man’s just looking out for himself
It seems clear to me
That nobody is free
Rich, white, black or poor you’re all the same to me
Trapped in a prison ruled by money
Don’t you think it’s funny 
Endless numbers and papers rules us 
We’ll never be happy
It’s not a mystery
The world is falling apart
I want it to end already, when will it start
Until then I guess I’m going to do my part
So while you’re here just make this life easy

So make this life easy
This life is just a lie
Soon you’re gonna die 
So why you killin him for
He’s just another brother, another lost soul
Just make this life easy
Just make this life easy
Just make this life easy
Just make this life easy

This poem is inspired by Tupac's Life Goes On.

Copyright © Tilahun Taye


Details | Rap Poem | |

Reason

You're the reason I love this music,
You're the reason I joined the movement.
Five shots in one night,
Sweat after a big fight,
We're just living life.
The stage is on fire, these folks love it,
My memory is a playlist -- filled with your hits,
My heart is a drum beating to when you say things.
You're the reason I love this,
You're the reason behind your lyrics,
You're the reason I appreciate
The wonderful moments your videos create.
I was floating on misery, until you caught me,
I was filled with envy, until I became me.
You taught to see the light,
You're the reason there's a bright in my nights.
You're reason I came here to write this,
You're the reason I follow the club scenes.
You're the reason the microphone is a song on it's own,
You're the reason I held to my own.
You inspired the kid,
Now I'm going to inspire some kids.
....................................................................................................
** A Rap Inspired by
and Dedicated to
South African rap artist
ReasonHD**

Copyright © Mamelodi Marakalala


Details | Rap Poem | |

Always Yours

(Meant to be read fast like rapping)

I’m trying to place all your beauty and grace

And to chase and embrace every memory that ever was

Hunting past ghosts and old posts and love notes to see if anything can jolt this mind of mine

But it’s gonna be a while in denial till your smile turns the dial and resets this heart of mine

And it’s gonna take time to remind the divine to align the design inside this soul of mine

The fact of the matter is
I’m back and I’m better
Like a post script letter
And I promise I will never fetter

I wish you could comprehend the twists and bends this journey sends me on

I wish you could see the glee inside of me that frees the seas and shakes my knees

I want you to hold my heart that beats in part and won’t depart from next to you

Stay close
Don’t go
Wait a little longer and I swear I’ll have the flow

Come step 
Inside
Let me show you why this is love I can’t deny

In time
You find
Every little thing I did had you in mind

Copyright © Alexander Klein

More great poems below...


Details | Rap Poem | |

RENEGADES FOREVA

  Renegades Foreva!

Renegade teenage rage babes 
thinkin’ they all grown, all knowin’ 
when they seedlin’s barely sown
bleedin’ teenage angst with teenage crankst
always rhymin’ and mis-timin’ some poetry-crimin’  
mis-mashin', diss-bashin' 
word-clashin' song 
heard on some half-sappy, sex-happy, 
yap-rap, smack-attack vid 
made by some brotha who’s just anotha 
angry angst-ridden 
wannabe gangsta kid

With a street beat
they be hummin’ or singin’ along
repeatin’ the deceit 
not knowin’ curse verses 
are just plain wrong and mostly maligin’   
while grownups in earshot 
takin’ all them swearshots
wishin’ them words had sweeter rhymin’ 
or that kids be more discreet 
would take their claptrap, 
no-class, crass-crack lyrics 
and just tweet ‘em or mime ‘em

But if ‘dults could go back, meet themselves
when they was punk teens 
fittin’ into pre-shrunk his or her hunk jeans
listenin’, partyin’ to poppin’ rockin’ 
unusual musical junk boy band scenes
and lettin’ out star-struck 
super-charged
groanal hormonal 
no-one-could-understand gland screams    
then they’d be amused ya know, 
might change their views ya know 
cause remind ‘em not so pristine 
when child and ‘dult they was in-between

Kids always lookin’ to find 
who they are and who they be 
imprisoned involuntarily 
in their youthful penitentiary 
no matter what century they be from you see            

So if  thinkin’ rap sucks cause 
it’s just no-class hurls and low-class slurs 
then fire-up that flux capacitor of yours, 
head back to yo’ past and meet yo’ younger him or hers
see your own rebelling mis-teen-stakes 
then rapping notions you might reshape
or rapping judgments remake
or least maybe now tolerate new-age teenage
rapping outbreaks and in-yo-face ear-quakes 
realizin’ that come whateva or wheneva
that all teens now, before an’ where-eva 
will evamore and eva be 
natural renegades foreva! 

© 2014 all rights reserved

Copyright © Andy Richards


Details | Rap Poem | |

8 Mile Style

8MILE8MILE    .     .     .     .     .    STYLE     .     .     .     .  8MILE8MILE
I got my mind on my money and my money on my mind but no matter where 
I go I see them same old hoes 
   BRING DA BEAT         c’mon, c’mon, c’mon        HERE WE GO
                  
                           YEA   YEA   YEA 
They be warin old clothes, exposin them busted ass toez in fishnet pantyhose  
They be standin in rowz, striking that silly old pose, workin them same two 
Joes
So the rumor grows, and everybody knows, that her name is rose, we know 
rose blows
 
DOUBLE BUBBLE, BUBBLE TROUBLE,       YEA   YEA    YEA     

She got fired from LoweZ, ’cause she stole a garden hose, spent all the money 
at Moe’Z
Yea - Moe’Z ho clothes and fishnet hose, down at 52nd and StrowZ, traffic 
really slows when she bends to expose, she get dirt on them knees, when she 
blows

DOUBLE BUBBLE, BUBBLE TROUBLE        YEA   YEA   YEA
AND THE COP SHOWZ                     
                                    
UP, UP, UP,  EVER’BODY  UP,  C’MON UP, C’MON UP

                                                YEA    YEA    YEA
She putz the powder up her nose, didn’t pay the fine she owez, gives a 
discount to the bros
Ever’body froze, then the streetlight glows, that’z the way it goes, for all them 
bimboz
Same for the hoes, az it is for the bros, all the way from Melrose to the 
chicagos
And it’s still the same for the Souix and them Navahoes,  UH  YEA  UH  YEA
SHOUT OUT TO ALL MY PEEPZ IN THE POCONOS
         YEA  YEA  YEA            I’M OUT

OUT ROLLIN ON THAT 8 MILE ROOOOAD

8MILE8MILE     .     .     .     .     STYLE     .     .     .     .     8MILE8MILE



written by Warner Baxter One Knight Stand Productions all rights reserved

Copyright © Warner Baxter


Details | Rap Poem | |

'Poet's Delight'

Math, physics, English, and so on--
     alas, are tiresome!
All the professors here go on 
     with a prime axiom. 

A stuffy, college campus where 
     knowledge and books abound,
freshmen and co-eds are clueless
     and confused all around.

Mid-terms and finals I do dread
     as each semester ends;
the pressure's on me to study
     as the semester wends.

School's oppressive this semester,
     I'll see my old provost
and leave 'ere I rot and fester
     and take up a new post.

William & Mary's M.B.A.'s
     are just worthless BS;
degrees from the home of “The Tribe”
     are crap that obsolesce.

I'll do rimes as “Poet's Delight”
     as poems are my forté,--
not tomes or stuffy scholastics!
     Ballads are my métier.


1.) poembender; 2.) Philosophical motif; 3.) for "Impress me III ! (Old / New)" Contest


















Copyright © Ngoc Nguyen


Details | Rap Poem | |

Knowledge is power

Listen to me I a wisdom spreading the message to grown ups and children Mentality philosophy sycologicoly educationaly given My brains spinning working 7 days a week thinking My thoughts are high beonyed the sky it's like an angel blinking Thoughts of determination I will spread knowledge to the nation So all that negative in the world I am replacing With lyrical penatration only spoken by a consealer I can never be the same never follow I'm a leader This world is going down if I keep this to myself I would die a 1000 deaths to help everyone else This life is so amazing while hell's fire keeps blazing Billionars keep getting money and prices are still raising Homeless people craving 3 pennies they are saving I'm getting so pissed I'm about to paint the white house black Uplifting my community and bringing it all back Apply all this wisdom because every word is a fact

Copyright © ikhlas moosa


Details | Rap Poem | |

79point12 FM

Tune into my mind/
Tune into my mind and get stabbed to life/ 
Jawbones knife attacking words/ 
Please alter my mind/

I am that programmed station/ 
Possessed to pose in possession of your mind/ 
Missions transmitted in metres between ears and time chasers/ 
Tune into my mind and stay blessed with all the metaphoric answers/ 

Frequency freaking hearts that taste no words instantly/
My radio is more than your language/
Tune into my mind/
I ask you to please my pleasing dreams please/
Tune into my mind/
I see poetry in your homeless face and chemistry/
With blinded motives
I smell signals in punch lines before your empty tummy fights/
Breath my waves/
Snooze my poetry/
In your sleep please squeeze my radio/
Let me sleep your dreams in afternoon drives/

Caves transporting words that change strive/
Scratchy ears get tickled 
Tune into my mind/
And smile/
Please/
Tune into my mind/
And dance to the beats of my creativity/

Receive end distance relationship with me/
Strip naked my heart existence/

I speak of permissions/
Granting permissions to speak visual emissions/
With no jurisdictions/
Court judges judging restrictions/
Hold up/ 
That’s your life in a sentence/
Gone in 60 seconds essence/ 

I speak of you in my right hand/
Tilt next to my time/
Please live your waves let me tune into your mind/
Jawbones/ 
Knife attack my words/ 
My bones serve tissues for your teary facial expressive words/
Let me adjust into your intelligence/
While i recall my callings and evidences/
Seventy-nine twelve twenty-seven feels like ages/ 

Let me feel your presence/

Copyright © Raymond Ngomane


Details | Rap Poem | |

psychotic writer

A mad man 
Psychotic rap fan
You think this is all an act? damn
Give me a compliment to back-hand

Maybe I should be less complicated and more simplistic
Because a lot of the world are dim-witted
I call my pad wifey and pen mistress
Not for love, because I just got rejected by those 2 blonde twin sisters

They took what I said the wrong way
I was just trying to cheer myself up after a long day
I said “you wear the same clothes how about wearing the same guy”
One slapped me but you don’t know if you don’t try

Women try and change us into something we’ll never be
I’m the nicest, most damaged, flawed sarcastic psychotic man you will ever meet
I’m not as hard as nails but also not as soft as a lettuce leaf
I’m not a poet I just make letters meet

A prisoner in my own mind
So it’s like receiving a letter from a pen-pal from death row
When you read my rhymes
But I know you love it and class it as your best note

Already got spiky hair like I got a shock and survived the electric chair
Haven’t you got it yet? I’m not all there
But when have I claimed to be?
Just my pad, pain and me

Force the world to feel my rage
Psychotic writer killing my thoughts on this page
Don’t talk to me if you haven’t got a sense of humour
Ok let’s end the rumours

I’m not making a super group with MC Hammer and Vanilla Ice
I’ve been getting this pain out for years why is it still inside?
Got so much behind me like Beyonce’s ass
When she becomes 1 of Jay-Z’s 99 problems I’ll be there so fast

Wait hold up I only said that because it rhymed
His heart what has he done with it?
Quit being so serious I’m just having fun with it
Give me an inch and I’ll run with it

Before you know it I’ll of vanished
Timepiece on my dictionary cause they told me to watch my language
Try to understand me you will never manage
A psychotic writer, who’s flawed, scarred, weird and damaged

Girl how one earth can I be Drake for you?
But answer me this, if I’m on a date with you
And I’m looking at your boobs how is that a bad thing?
At least I’m focused on the boobs of the girl I’m dating so don’t turn it into a mad thing

Yeah I know my thoughts are a little hard to understand
But girl you won’t get my weird ways and sexiness if you date another man
Wait, I’m not sexy, forgive me I damaged my brain trying to understand you
I’m a psychotic writer and killing my thoughts on this paper is all I can do 

Copyright © Alex Duffy


Details | Rap Poem | |

Trayvon Brown

Walk with me,

Don't...SHOOT, 
cuz I don't wanna die young, 
I wanna grow old and have 
a daughter or a son, or maybe both, 
to live a full life is my hope,
but the bullets in your gun 
are a noose around my throat.

Don't....SHOOT,
I promise you I wanna LIVE,
I wanna show the world everything I have to give
and it's a lot, and yea I might smoke a little pot,
but so Bill Clinton and HE didn't get shot.

Don't....SHOOT,
I got plans for my future,
that don't include a cop saying
stop and let me shoot ya

Don't....SHOOT,
my hands are clearly in the air
I start school next week and I wanna
make it there.

But you..... SHOT,
and let me die in the streets,
now my people want answers 
No justice no peace.

Copyright © Cairo Asikari


Details | Rap Poem | |

Starry Eyed

In my hand an empty pack of camel crushes... I smoked them all. 
All the pacing from the stress has beat the pavement raw.
Anger from the moments of my son I never saw.
I'm so gone.
Because I've been holding it in for way too long.
And hashtag to my haters,I will spray you all away if you try to stop me from getting my hustle on.
And I'm not Kirsten Dunst but suckas bring it on.
I'm praying that the whole world pays attention to this song.
See snow the product did it first, but see this best it spoke to me.
And said "you could write a story on how rough your life could be. 
And with every verse you spit, more haters get frikazied.
That's when motivation kicked in and I began to believe.
I'll show the population that my ryhmes are mega rad.
And show the child courts I can be a good dad. 
And make for certain that I get to make my baby mama mad.
Because every brother out of Gary really ain't bad.
Determined dad.

Copyright © Julian Miles


Details | Rap Poem | |

The Northern Suburbia Dragqueen Blues

your love is real the love tou feel
your love is great the love you make
your record is on fire its your disire
Take me out tonight
Go wild and crazy or be fat and lazy 
So I played some Doors and saw some
hores so I said hello and they said cello
fool so dig my guts and eat
my brain and then go insane I don't
Care I love it so forget it Punk!

Copyright © Blake Holland


Details | Rap Poem | |

That Man is Mine

Girl, I know you heard the words he's been sayin'
I know he ain't honest, but I know he ain't strayin'

His eyes may wander a bit in your direction,
But girl ya gotta know he gives me his attention,

He's just a flirt, ya I made him that way,
Uhoh girl, too much of that, I don't play.

I'll be on you, giving you careful inspection,
Making sure you ain't begging for his affection.

You know what I'm sayin' my claws are comin'
Hear the scratching, you better start runnin'

I ain't messin' with a two bit eyes crossed *ore,
Back off before I toss your behind out that door.

That man is mine, paid for with my sweat and tears,
A few bats of your blue eyes won't bust up years.

Girl your messing with the wrong kind of flame,
You're gonna get burned, this ain't no game.

Don't be lookin' surprise, be lookin' over your shoulder,
You may be a young thang, but my skills are older.

I'm gonna wipe that smirk off your pretty lil' face,
I'll be hittin' it so hard, they ain't gonna be a trace.

Turn away now little girl, and watch your behind,
Step up or step back, cause that man, he's mine!


08-07-2014


Copyright © Casarah Nance


Details | Rap Poem | |

Lyrical Crimes

This ink switchblade scraped the page
Imbibed by my musical sage
This isn't just a love sick cantata
A heartless melody, baby hold that fermata
Oh look out! More lyrical crimes
Hear me butcher these rhymes?
My murderous hymn in 4/4 times

Copyright © A.E. Rivenbark


Details | Rap Poem | |

The Last Laugh

I’m not an ego maniac
you know the type that gives others a heart attack
I get my vital nutrition 
From a dietitian
Who only asks for my Submission
And he gives me the ambition
To fight back
On track
Promises me that I will never lack.
There’s a battle every time I wake
There’s a battle in every move I make 
I am Jehovah's daughter
That’s why I can walk on water
I don’t need a psychic to read my palm
I have the prophecies, of his words, on my arm
I don’t need soothsayers to give me a premonition
I have fire from heaven that is my ammunition
Everywhere I turn their speaking death
It rains down until I have nothing left
Everyone is believing a lie
How can I sit back and watch as time goes by
The devil has sung many too sleep
Wake up, men of God; you’re being slaughtered like sheep
Resist the temptation
And have a deeper appreciation
For the lives placed in your hand
Or they’ll sink like quicksand
Into the abyss of despair
God’s presence isn’t there
This is a warning in these last days
To surrender your rebellious ways
Judgment is coming whether you believe it or not
Children of Niniva repent on the spot
And the God of "Mercy" will change his mind,
He calls out, “ Is there anyone I can find
That will abandon their ways and come into the light
Put on righteousness and fight this good fight?”
Spiritual anorexia
Emaciated the rest of you
Spiritual abortion
Has led many to extortion
Who will bow? Who will plead?
Save this generation which bleeds
Fathers gone estrange
Birthing violence that’s deranged
Suicide… the anti-Christ
Don’t you know Jesus paid the price?

By: Sabina Nicole

Copyright © Sabina Nicole


Details | Rap Poem | |

Why i hate Rap haters, but love Poetry

Dodge, duck, dip, dive and dodge
Poetic lifeguards use applause to save lives
When you see rap flying far from poetry's interests

Dodge,

Fasten your seat-belt and enjoy the bloody verbal battle
In sessions poetry speaks in tones of a crying soul
Rap is built on concrete rhythms mixed with first bricks of venomous alphabets
Rap is an angry poem
Rap is poetry 
but poetry will never rap like rappers air polluting words to poet their ideas
I mean, if rap is literature, 
why has it started so many wars between ideas

Walls of belongings in the middle of fear
Appre-ciations
Appre-ciate and question things

Blind words can see the difference
Why has rap created rivals in many societies
Haters hate us 
While poetry stinks of welcoming joints
Modern rap has a stench of juvenile points 
I played this word game in my head
Ones or twice 
I lost to a bunch of middle fingers spider webbed on the roof of my creations
Haters, my mates 

Rap can be spoken in sign language
Both animals eat words and poop spoken rhythms
Both body languages undress opinions in different approaches when speaking crises
Poetry's violent approach comes from humans who speak to teach
My poetry likes the anxiety of a beat

I hate material rap haters
I intend to seed Africa’s womb with baby words to grow poetry in your rap choices

Art cannot be written off, long as there's soul in that flash, there's life before trash
I recently adopted a second born skin
My child is a shield blocking weakness of my bones to animal views
My meaning is behind the lens of my third eye
I wish i can share my visual thoughts in a language 
louder than the sound of a broken TV reception
Shhhhhhhhhhhhh
Brake the eyes of stillness
I wish i can walk my words of metaphors injecting needles of knowledge
With no fear 
My missionary position
I intend to seed Africa’s womb

(c) Raymond Ngomane

Copyright © Raymond Ngomane


Details | Rap Poem | |

Bull

You must think me a thick skull
You thought you had me too
Yeah, honey, skip to your own loo
Cause this one's already full
Of your brown nosing, so shoo!
Cause this cow will call you on your bull

Copyright © A.E. Rivenbark


Details | Rap Poem | |

Where Do I Begin

If you could dream and not make your dreams your enemy
If you could drive your mind out of all insanity
You will have perfected all seen in reality
A standard life is all one really wishes for
A simple light is what I see down this corridor
So unique and small yet so complex and infinite
Did not chose this ocean but choosing to navigate in it
In time of struggle I must stay optimistic

Lucifer was once very beautiful and majestic
In reflection not bound to be acknowledged
In hope of recognition for what he thought was knowledge
There and then assuming he was right
Believing he was greater than those that fight in the light

Today I live in fear and in sin
Mesmerizing the unreachable scars under my skin
Playing a game that's inevitable to change
Like the moon in the sky being pulled to close range
Following the natural law of existence
you're born, you live and die in an instant

Always live your life in appreciation
Begin with what you don't have
And use it as motivation
To want to succeed
More than you want to breath
From hard work freedom you will receive
Like a seed pushing through concrete
Destined to be a great tree
Standing so tall
It reaches the heavens that couldn't be seen
Never thought of 
Nor granted to be conceived
Now I believe
Please set me free

Not afraid to rise above silence
Not afraid to smile in a day full of sorrow
I recognize when I'm wrong
Yet always fighting for tomorrow
:Ace

Copyright © Santiago Cruz


Details | Rap 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 

Copyright © Alex Duffy


Details | Rap Poem | |

Letter To Hip Hop Cabinet Members

To whom it may rhyme honestly.
Hip hop is confused. 
Lyrics are nonsensical and abused.
Speaking against it means you'll be boozed.
Everyone is sold out and seduced.

Emcees battle for recognition in sweats of dead legends. 
Genre planted by dead lyrical prophets.
Currently they’re searching for rap god but this doesn’t sound ancient.
This search does not deserve a capital G
Let’s jump straight to old school index.

Biggy and Tupac for instance permanently were consumed.
Like gibberish everyone turned confused.
Now we have au pairs of hip hop.
Fears for Tears
Wait till that first president is vacuumed.

Everyone will defiantly be confused.
A holiday will be planted and assumed.
Rest assured it will be approved.
Holidays amplify drainage in pockets.
Like new hip hop, dead rhymes get approved.

But who am I sneaking in reality's perfume.
My hip hop worries are harmless sounds like gurgles.
Gun shots in my face would be unchained bullet harmonious patterns
But that menace to me is doddle.
Easy cake two minutes noodles.

As I pay my last respect and spit worries.
May Old School Hip Hop resurrect in peace.
Rise in bilingual lyrical pieces.
As beats, we will strike against these complex increases reviving our old nieces
In hope some dope emcee will neck rope this confused hip hop

Like News everyone is an expert of hip hop views
The sun will take a 12 hour flight before our darkness is saved from this loss.
We are plunging into darkness in the name of new century. 
Lost in the jungle.

Yours creatively Boom Bab Beats

Copyright © Raymond Ngomane


Details | Rap Poem | |

The Christmas Rapper

The Christmas Rapper
Loch David Crane
December 7, 1989

Hello there Virginia,
	and welcome too--
here's an answer to the question
	posed by you.

You ask "who's Santa Claus?"
	here he is--there!
The question is
	 not WHO but WHERE.

Santa's not found 
	in the beard or the hair;
the place you find Santa
	is in your heart--there.

You've got to see Santa's
	symbolic side--
of his charitable visits,
	of his midnight ride.

He's hospitality 
	and traveller's aid--
and he's the fulfillment
	of wishes made.

Santa is the symbol
	of a child you see--
the child in you,
	the child in me.

The light of curiosity
	in children's eyes
brightens into pleasure
	at each gift or prize.

Santa Claus lives
	in a puppy's wet nose,
in a coveted toy,
	in the right sized clothes,

In the love of a parent,
	in the eyes of a child,
in the empty boxes
	and wrappings wild.

He's not in a cash gift
	or a plastic card –
but you hear him a'caroling	
	in someone's front yard.

Santa Claus is
	a place in your heart –
he's a state of mind,
	he’s a form of Art.

He's the spirit of joy,
	he’s the spirit of giving,
he’s the spirit of Love
	we should all be living.

You'll discover when Santa
	you set out to find –
he's not here on Earth:
	he resides in your mind.

And now comes the echo
	of Santa's World flight:
"Merry Christmas to all
	and to all a good night!"

Copyright © Loch David Crane


Details | Rap 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

Copyright © Arcene Janvier


Details | Rap Poem | |

Blind I Walk With Only Sound

Blind, I walk tap tap
to find my way, rap echo.
Sing song carry me
home to you, bring it home tap
straight to my heart so I hear.

When I see the beat 
boomerang back rap to me
I know your sound space
I know the song of your sense
I hear the cry of your dream

The echoes build loud
Add fluid to the white space
Thoughts of listeners
Adding additional beat
Making new heart, soul, song, sound 

One by one you come
One by one you come online
Choir adding rhythm rip
choir adding some  filigree
add understanding to world

What the rap you make
What the taps you spell out loud
Becomes an image
Shared by all who listen, sing
Wonderful sound, our heartbeat.

Copyright © Sheri Fresonke Harper