Best Hip Hop Poems | Poetry

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.

See Also:

Poems are below...



New Hip Hop Poems

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

Hip Hop Shine by Kwezt, Sonique
Hip Hop Hugh by Warrior, Winged
Old Skool Hip Hop vs Mumble by Trim, Nick
My Hip Hop Heart by Browning, CC
Love for Hip-Hop by Duffy, Alex
Hip Hop saved my life by Duffy, Alex
Awake The Hip Hop Disciples by Mitey , Kipkirui
HIP HOP AND THE GETTO by curtis futch jr, kurtis scott aka
HIP HOP by Davis, Nsideout
HIP HOP by Lee, Jeffrey

View all new Hip Hop Poems

The Best Hip Hop Poems

Details | Hip Hop Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Revelation

They always said I was "special" or useless,
full of excuses, slow to learn but my wit had a quickness,
so I decided to embrace my uniqueness,
and look at me now leaving people speechless.

They challenge me and their ego decreases,
they think I'm an easy target all blonde and simple,
but I can tie laces and pull down bridges,
leaving red faces on all those people.

I'm just a nuisance that you cannot silence,
it's just the written word it's not acts of violence,
but offensive 'cus I've mastered the art of deliverance,
I went from special needs to the rank of brilliance.

I'm an example of how evolution is impossible to prevent,
I don't have a need for revolution, I don't give up and reinvent.
I'm this generations arrival of something different,
and what that means is anything but insignificant.

It's just the basic nature of our creature,
the arrival, the stay and the retreat,
a rotation of stature and main feature,
allowing the old to take their seat.

I've realised that being different is a gift
able to move you above the competition.
It's a rare dynamic thought process that lifts
out a unique idea missed by everyone.

It's a natural advantage to protect from sabotage,
that has an exceptional outcome way above average.
I don't need to hide out of sight wearing camouflage,
I have the right tools and ambition to build my own bridge.

I write rhymes but it was never predicted,
people thought my brain was restricted,
I always allowed their insults to inflict,
listening to put downs meant my mind was tricked.

Then I stopped listening and my confidence lifted,
and found that being unique also means gifted.
Many remembered by history were not deemed ordinary,
I guess "the odd kid" grows into the extraordinary.

Creating their very own original story,
billions lived but they stay in the memory.
So, I guess, with a self belief that could be me,
and if not at least the illusion makes me happy.


29/03/18
P.O.T.D 30/03/18


Copyright © Nick Trim | Year Posted 2018


Details | Hip Hop Poem | Create an image from this poem.

ONE STEP AT A TIME

adventure, growing up, hip hop, repetition, word play

A ONE STEP AT A TIME ©
Life is but a hopscotch path
Players vying for placement
Rules to follow aground
Tokens used for good luck
Practice runs lead to safe landings
Over ever-changing terrains
Hop skip and jump!

Land on a crack
You break your Mudder’s back
Marbles fill a bag of loot
Once directed into home holes
Missed turns are your takings
Marbled cat eyes forever coveted!
Crayons come in packs
Pick a colour to your taste
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Black is for rain clouds
Gone is a sun yellow

A is for Apple-
B is for Bunny-
C is for caterwauling
Letters up for a draw
Lettered tongues speak
The bad, good and the ugly
Making mountains out of mole hills!
Name-calling never hurts 
Pain hurts from thrown stones
Calling one to take a chance
Towards another hopscotch
With hop skips and jumps
One step, two steps, three steps more!



Copyright © Diane M Quinlan | Year Posted 2015


Details | Hip Hop Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Anthony Durbin RIP Changes Tribute

I see big changes, 
Everybody's walking around,
Heads face the ground,
You made us so very proud.
The eleven man crew is one man down,
Gone but not forgotten in Bath town.

I pinch myself at the thought of you,
I wish you could have sat and talked it through.
Now all we've got are shirts for you,
Durbz 5 and I don't even like Man U.

When we didn't have a job all day it was just us two,
With no money we'd scrape and share a spliff or two.
With that instrumental CD you'd freestyle like you do,
And I'd never join in so now I write this song for you.

Who'd have thought you'd end like this,
I never thought you'd play out like this.
That cheeky grin and the laughs we'll miss,
You were a legend, please know you'll be missed.

(Chorus)

I didn't know you in the wooley hat crew,
But the WESA boys all got love for you.
now when I play in goal it'll seem like the defence has a gaping hole,
Remember when you lobbed me and scored that amazing own goal.

If I was Doc Brown I'd come back for you,
Jump in my Delorean and travel back a year or two.
We all regret we didn't do more for you,
But who could predict you'd do what you'd do.

All those fit girls that you had,
Something of a Jack The Lad,
It makes us all so very sad,
But I knew you and for that I'm glad.

However life keeps moving on,
And your family and mates are trying to stay strong,
I can't help feeling that it's so damn wrong,
You lived life to the full but it wasn't for long.

It's so upsetting that you are gone,
But in time we'll meet again and I'll sing you this song.
When we meet at those pearly gates,
You'll learn exactly what you mean to all of your mates.

R.I.P Durbz, Happy Birthday.

P.O.T.D 12/2/2018


Copyright © Nick Trim | Year Posted 2018


Details | Hip Hop Poem | Create an image from this poem.

A Man From Asia

A night of drinking shots, shorts and out of test tubes,
it's summertime so everyone out has removed the pube.
This summer sun means you're always in the mood,
so stock up on batteries, lube and eat leaf food.

Tonight you dance like a dodo would do,
if the dodo re-rose and reproduced loads,
so move your toes, your butt and your nose,
dance the dance of a dodo re-rose.

Dancing is the human mating call,
so make those boobs and balls wobble,
everyone wants to go home with a pull,
if not it's the finger, paw or battery draw of the single.

She dances a dance that is so damn sexy,
you enhance and your underpants become messy.
She looks at you and says "come and get me",
and you say "I'm sorry I've cum accidentally".

Honestly mate that's never happened to me,
at least put it in before the apology.

She then moved towards you and you were both grinding more,
while it seeped down your leg and out on to the dancefloor,
then people started to fall like never before,
you had to many shots to see she was a man whore,
with a very present Adams apple and a bulge more ample than yours. 

She was tucked and taped but the tape fell away,
and out of that mini skirt two big fat balls did sway, 
you didn't pull a woman mate, you pulled a gay,
and trust me when I say she was not very young, 
but I've got to say mate she was very well hung.

It's now morning and you're thinking shall I see her later............
She wasn't fit mate she was a man from Asia!

I thought with boobs the balls got removed,
but you found a dude with balls like a moose,
and now you're in for a life of banter abuse,
If I was you mate I'd stay off the booze.

Carlsberg don't do piss ups, but if they did..............

they probably wouldn't talk such crap in their adverts.


Copyright © Nick Trim | Year Posted 2018


Details | Hip Hop Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Big Ego

He's got a big ego,
he keeps offending people,
he scoops the same scoop,
& round & round we loop,
until the bubble pops, 
& the world sees him flop,
reject the rude, deflate your ego,
swearing kills the mood, able?

I'm getting to cocky,
I could outbox Ali,
wrestle with The Rock,
reach the top and stop & mock.
Ego full of stock,
forget the tick tock
cus I'm 24 7 
until I get into heaven,
insomnia beckons 
& amnesia threatens,
bend rhymes like Beckham
dunk punks like Jordan,
the mental perfection 
with its rhyme injection,
about to live the lesson
of the ego outstretchin'
the limit it can flex,
the crux, the critical,
I rhyme the old skool
& wear hip hop shoes,
I hate the mumble flop 
with the words unused.
It's just ear abuse,
on the loose, with no use,
noise with no excuse.

Big man, big balls he's acting like a right prick,
Big man, big balls disguise a very little dick,
Big man, big balls overcompensating it,
Goodbye big man, with average rhymes no different.

I suspect that this project
will impact & inflict
sick tricks, & then retract 
& evaporate back
to the Gods intact,
before it's redirected 
to another level head
who wrecks & blows it, 
crash the car, went to far,
you go from feeling cool
to a sample of your stool,
that once big head
gone & the face left red,
baking big mistakes,
taking a punch of a heavyweight,
David doesn't always beat Goliath,
cometh the hour,
cometh the coffin,
you can't stimulate with coffee
cus the heart stop beatin',
the soul is set free,
& this world you're leavin',
beaten down with ease
lying dead and bleedin'.

Big man, big balls he's acting like a right prick,
Big man, big balls disguise a very little dick,
Big man, big balls overcompensating it,
Goodbye big man, with average rhymes no different.

One hand holds but the other can't reach,
near rhymes arnt real rhymes, 
& sand doesn't mean a beach,
but if you find the flow,
find a way to wined the cable,
then transmit clear & stable
& accurate like a machete,
you'll rhyme like a line of spaghetti,
but with deadwood on your lead
& at ease in your bed head,
cus it feels so easy with an ego,
then know it won't make a good show,
so put your feet on the ground
be aware of how the words sound,
stop the passive aggression
or accept a massive devaluation,
leave behind the prima donna
or become another gonna,
fill your minds storage
with knowledge beyond the college,
there's always more to learn
& more wood to burn,
big heads remove themselves
when they burn their own shelves.


Copyright © Nick Trim | Year Posted 2018


Details | Hip Hop Poem | Create an image from this poem.

It's Two Days After Thursday

Enter the Everest that devastates.
He never ever rests and he demonstrates,
how the greatness activates
traits that forever feed hate,
from enemies full of envious jealousy,
with sad little nul and void abilities.
It's a given that even if you sail the seven seas 
as well as trail the land you will fail,
to topple the unbeatable one,
he is second to none,
so you won't find better people,
clever mortals don't stand equal,
he's leaving them looking feeble,
falling short and in need of support,
one by one each face returns to its common space,
with a disappearance of their cocky ways,
disgraced and put in their place.

Total domination mate,
sinks you into a submissive state,
I'm taking your misses away on a date,
she's blowing me kisses,
she said to say you're finished,
I wish you best wishes
in the sea there are many fishes.

She said to me, 
Left toe, Right toe,
she turned and twerked her butt hole,
celebrate your birthday,
it's two days after thursday,
we visited the bar mate 
cus dancing makes you thirsty,
left toe, right toe
and party like a hero.

My rhymes are dirty,
immature and over thirty,
insults don't hurt me,
athletic and nerdy,
so punches get returned 
and you wake up all hazy,
I'm a master of all trades,
not a jack I get A grades,
I'm exceptional compared to any, 
I'm the Ultimate go-go
God of the rhyme show,
others go, 
way to slow, 
like a Skoda,
I'm a force beyond NASA
thrusting rockets out the ozone,
you're spelling like a bozo,
but don't get lazy cus I can see
you are quite cosy behind me,
you are the second best,
far better than the rest,
I like to have good competition,
It's a fashion to have a comparison,
We make the rest look comical,
we rhyme well,
while the rest are diabolical,
and rhyme stale.
We can tag team up and be great,
while they bag food up and clean plates,
we will live in mansions
while they hope for pensions,
I'm the God of rhyme
you're a King on a throne,
they're rhyme criminals
who become the unknown.

I've got to go mate,
I'm on a date,

She said to me 
Left toe, Right toe,
she turned and twerked her butt hole,
celebrate your birthday,
it's two days after thursday,
we visited the bar mate 
cus dancing makes you thirsty,
left toe, right toe
and party like a hero.


Copyright © Nick Trim | Year Posted 2018


Details | Hip Hop Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Brenda Chiri Challenged Me, This Is Her Eulogy

Brenda's in barney rubble,
we were having a bubble, 
but my feathers were ruffled,
stand by and give her a cuddle.

You've challenged a Nick that'll kill with a flick of the bean,
I'm no Mr. Bean I thought you'd seen how I clean
out running mouths with words I don't gun down,
yet I move from town to town, making clowns surrounded
by tears leaving them scarred for life and living in fear,
before they turn to and drown themselves in the beer,
seeking safety in the arms of queers providing dick chairs 
that wear bottoms bare.

You pushed my buttons my colonial cousin and now you're rushing 
to write your verse that we all know will be worse.
If you quit now I'll save money ear marked for your hearse,
you'll benefit 'cus I can put the money back in your purse.
You behave a way that'll see you fall in a grave,
Washington's dead and Trump's to dumb to save,
I bet you had a rave chucking that tea off a boat, 
Quote "I've seen more rebellious acts from a goat" end quote,
Bush was dumb yet he won a second vote,
he couldn't read and I bet he never wrote,
vote for the dumb and the population should be chased by white coats.

You lit a fire in my heart, like in 1812 when that fire did start,
the leaders home, the nations heart, started to burn with less strain than a fart. The rhyme of the poison dart, your flag looks like childrens art.
With the exception of the lyrics from a man who should be sectioned
yeah I've read the verses you don't sing, your anthem was written in Britain ain't revolutions a funny thing, you got rid of our King, well we did the same thing, but then said sit as head of state without power or anything, that's how you humiliate, you don't put in place English common law after a war to get free from the same law mate.

The White House was fried and disappeared out of sight,
but the stick and cloth was there with it's pride, 
alone with no buildings either side or behind.
Jose was all warm inside, the White House died.
Creating an allegiance to cloth and stick, 
Bush thick and Trumps a prick.
When I leave I'll show my ass for you to lick,
 it's 3 a.m and I'm to good for you man... or woman, 
run your mouth at the Taliban not a British man.
You write the date dyslexic, 
on the boat your ancestors brain became anorexic.
Take note I'm epic, 
you spastic, 
Now f**k you and have a nice day... whoops I forgot to put my arse on display.
You chuck the tea and we'll rule the waves.
I'm putting you back in the caves.


Copyright © Nick Trim | Year Posted 2018


Details | Hip Hop Poem | Create an image from this 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


Copyright © Raymond Ngomane | Year Posted 2015


Details | Hip Hop Poem | Create an image from this 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 | Year Posted 2013


Details | Hip Hop Poem | Create an image from this 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!!!
08-18-2014 Contest: Ebonics – Let’s Do Some Slang Sponsor: Verlena S. Walker Placement: 1st 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.


Copyright © Pandita Sanchez | Year Posted 2014


Details | Hip Hop Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Love or Help

You live to love, When you love to give. That life you never had Like forever, had no wealth. Still had a hand to help. All I have is dreams for myself grand plans for world and words to rhyme with strength. The world will change, it depends on range of rage or love we raise. Well thats a phase of world, where we stay some for months, some for days or its a game we play and score to glee. All above, We live to love and we need to give.


Copyright © rahul bhatia | Year Posted 2016


Details | Hip Hop Poem | Create an image from this 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


Copyright © Knowledge Hill | Year Posted 2014


Details | Hip Hop Poem | Create an image from this poem.

I Was Wrong

Wrong
Was I
To push love
So un-returned
At first though the love from you came later
I lost mine, rapt in imagination
So time forgot
Our passion
Mislaid
Sin


Copyright © cecil hickman | Year Posted 2013


Details | Hip Hop Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Not another day


Impulsive or compulsive

Either way it's not conducive

Living with this disorder

Can't be good for my liver

Obsessions, when do they stop?

Compulsions, when do I stop?

Let me illustrate and reiterate

My demons make me infuriated

To the point, man, I really want to escape this

Live everyday like your last?

These hours go by fast

Trying to obliterate every ounce of the past

Always with the imagery and self coping insanity

That broke me and continues to break me.

Another day, no not another day

I just got out, please let me stay away.


Copyright © Stefan Cote | Year Posted 2016


Details | Hip Hop Poem | Create an image from this 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


Copyright © Stefan Hillyman | Year Posted 2013


Details | Hip Hop Poem | Create an image from this 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 | Year Posted 2015


Details | Hip Hop Poem | Create an image from this 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


Copyright © louis brown | Year Posted 2015


Details | Hip Hop Poem | Create an image from this poem.

The Raving

From 2010. Narrator is Robert Gibbs, snooty White House Press Secretary.

Lay, O Lord, a curse on press men, rude and churlish, sad, obsessed men 
Who persist to query me on matters they know I must ignore. 
As I parry, neatly jinking, Tapper stares at me, unblinking; 
No doubt he is thinking, thinking Robert Gibbs is short one oar.  
Of them all, him I abhor.  

Yes, the fire is now an ember from a long-ago November  
When every media staff member bowed and scraped outside my door.  
Cocksure, I held my pressers (Helen! Old as earth, God bless her),   
Brushing off reporters—lessers, lessers who were such a bore,  
Including Jake the Tapper, whom the gods named my bête noire.
From the start, we’ve been at war.  

There! He rises, smarmy, sassy; I feel dizzy, bloated, gassy,  
Sickened, now stricken with the urge to swat this gadfly to the floor.  
As I tamp down nauseation, purge my thoughts of his castration, 
Jake the Tapper, this . . . crustacean floats a challenge like a spore, 
And it roots inside my core.  

Shaken now, I face him squarely, caustic tongue in check, just barely:  
“Scribe,” I bark, “or scrivener, hotly your aspersion I deplore.  
Blurted out while I was wrapping, in the middle of recapping,   
So to get your mates to clapping, clapping, because you're plainly sore.
Best be careful, sir,” I warn him; “You are swimming far from shore.”  
Says he louder: “Lie no more.”  

The rabble rise, and all are cheering; I stand my ground, erect and sneering,  
Mulling whether it is possible for order to restore. 
Finally, the room grows still, then someone shouts out, sounding shrill,  
“Robert Gibbs has stained his office and has much to answer for.” 
Here the rest take up the refrain: “Gibbs has much to answer for.  
He must pledge to lie no more.”  

“Leave!,” I roar, my stomach churning. “Briefing’s done, we are adjourning.” 
No one has moved when Jake starts . . . humming with a backup group of four.  
And then they laugh to underscore they will dish me out what-for   
From a slammin’ gangsta score:

Gibbsy doan wants ya fussin’ wid ‘im
Doan wants ya mussin’ wid ‘im
Wants ya to be a playa pushin’ single paya
So shut your faces ya know your places
Stay in the traces and ya’ll score some primo dope
And he’ll let ya stay inside the rope

Jake the Rapper, never droning, keeps intoning, keeps intoning
In the press room I abandoned, oh, a few months heretofore.
Ah, that shattering refrain, I shall hear it in my brain—
Evermore!


Copyright © Steve Grammatico | Year Posted 2016


Details | Hip Hop Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Life In The Streets

Gun shots rang out but no one hears.
A life comes to an end but no one fears.
A casual habit now a sin that in prisons the soul.
Another life settling for less than their predestined goal.
How can a child once filled with love grow into a person filled with so much hate?
Taking as one pleases because earning it means to wait.
By not having someone of worth to follow darkness fills the mind
Until greed, lust, and violence are the only things found to occupy their time.
Even when brick walls and locked doors to cells is all the eyes see
The mind still wanders back to life in the streets.
Where a gun and a cold heart is all that is left of your life
And the only things for which you are remembered is struggle and strife.


Copyright © Christina Hons | Year Posted 2015


Details | Hip Hop Poem | Create an image from this poem.

16 bars

its a thirst thats hard to quench you did it well, 
we all draw water from the well in the cellar, to go, inter-stellar 
in our minds deep dive divine intertwined by the roots we start to slow time 
but it seems refined the present danced in a line, we had a good rhyme, 
but rhythm lagged behind, the younger days where spent chasing
what we had all aligned, n being set up poor thats a crime, 
but no time to pull nine's n 16 dimes at a time, the designers be hatching 
cause they mismatched n cracking but from that flows the static,
step up stop the havoc with Matic actionary tactics of maverick's
     But the beginning was so tragic! SO! let go! 
The pass is so acid, image be a trap as the picture caps
and the future retaps time travel relapse now what image is that?
imagination afterwards be tripping like an actor, walking on x factor 
educated of y is it's so violent to be alive, and peaceful when we die.
we asked it nine times and 16 lines he rhymed,
the rhythm be forever silent this time.


Copyright © Rospel Funk | Year Posted 2016


Details | Hip Hop Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Two Hand Clap

I've got a fist full of Buddha,
And a fist full of Rand,
A pocket full of Jesus,
And the other's filled with sand,
That's in case I need to make some glass,
As it will proceed my foot in relation to your class,
That's a diametric description of an uncommon process,
I use it to repel obnoxious thoughts and logic,
The political storm seems to be the hot topic,
But what I see is dinosaurs in power,
Who don't want to get off it,
The ball, you dropped it,
Gigs up, you lost it,
Wings done, let's sauce 'em,
Awareness has blossomed,
We done playing possum,
You're boss, we want him,
Bring him down to the bottom,
And let's make him aware of our consciousness.

Are you really missing this?
Yo this is Excentrix,
Rich's psyche been known to split in an instant,
I represent a hulk like samurai witch,
Equipped to solve problems via the switch,
Cuz the man inside there is just a little kid,
See I tell the truth even when I lie,
Puttin' juice in busted axioms like Pie in the Sky,
"Yo dude, you know that's an idiom?"
Suck it, you're an idiot,
Guards, get rid of him!
I'm a linguistic mystic,
Suffering from a transpiritual sickness,
Where I'll always be a kid,
And live through my own deliverance.

Witness as I stab my own body of Christ,
Feels so nice to bleed emotion into the night,
With Excentrix as my weapon of my own conception,
I can justify intervention into the seas of deception,
Cleverly apply art to the lesson,
Of respecting yourself and recognizing transgression,
I don't need a stinking studio session,
Just flex my pen and in the end I'm winning,
My mental digestion invents a feeling,
That feeling going to climb me to the top of nimbus,
Behind us is a portal to another dimension,
Forgot to mention I'm the medium for the transmission,
I must be the exception because I'm good at listening.

I flip furniture when pressured,
Then turn a lecture,
Into a story told next to a lectern,
No disrespect sir,
But I'm disturbed by your indiscretion,
So curb your enthusiasm,
Before I burn this whole place down with plasma,
I got the EMP flow I brought back from the Matrix,
Excentrix is MVP for knowing when to go back to the basics,
Take it from me,
The artistic process is worth taking a stab at,
Just to prove that we're all humans,
And American Celebrity is mostly a magic act.


Copyright © Rich Metzger | Year Posted 2016


Details | Hip Hop Poem | Create an image from this poem.

HIPHOP POPS THE TOP

story to tell
they ring a bell
saying it all
there music makes the call
its at top of the lot
and hot
HIPHOP
POPS THE TOP


Copyright © kurtis scott aka curtis futch jr | Year Posted 2015


Details | Hip Hop Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Walk away

Cheap wine dimmed in the candle light thinking my life's bleak like her dreams keep cramping my sleep and I've had it with uncleaned teeth clamping when they bite like a dog with a lock jaw slamming tight.
Remote needs batteries check her sock draw and I'll find a rabbit with a new batch of soft porn man will like. 
Is she into man or d***
Bet you a dime she likes both now we're slapping high fives and I try and cope.
Leaving alone this whole mess that she has evoked.
I'm only mentioning sexuality as a joke, I know she likes men, she likes those who can fly a fist. 
Getting high and pissed meant we'd f*** first then fight and kiss.
I'm acting like a scientist leading this experiment where she became the guinea pig feeding my intelligence. 
Sent as a saviour they processed her papers. I almost fled home from her reckless behaviour.
The police came arrested her later and she became exactly what they meant by it's heinous. It's crazy we did time from flipping out big time, no big crime though still kept remanded for street fights.
Now I'm out of D side nothing can hold me down so where's my polar cloud sound of shadows feet creeping up. Strengthening the tone of the voice saying keep in touch.
I may have won the battle though I lost what I'd always loved. 
Calm before the storm where I'd walk with my  wolf we'd strut.
Talk tongue in cheek to those speaking some awful stuff with a forked tongue and a weak performance, just fools who wanna reak the rewards for some cheap decorum.
My requirements particular it's the mind I'm born with. 
Giving sincerity, acceptance, respect and integrity.
Serenity prayer on my ribs so remember me.
I've been through some hard times in hell and kept going till I past it.
The bitch tried to harm my existence and this time I stayed calm got her evicted.
This is one minute of my story so listen up.
Failures not fatal, success ain't permanent.
It's not giving up what matters and I'm sure of it.


Copyright © Sam Perkins | Year Posted 2018


Details | Hip Hop Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Not Afraid, part 1

(Verse 1)

This cannot repeat or loop around anymore, in my direction.
I've had the wind kicked out of my sails, due to depression,
and everyday
I hide away
and I'm not displaying 
the fight that I'm saying.
I'm down inside and sink,
I'm more flipping down than you'd think.
Lost for love and lost for laughter,
facing up to my fears always ends in disaster
with anxiety.

So I'm always down and doubting me.
A desert there's a drought in me
while rain downpours are drowning me.
The logic's leaking out of me.
A mist hides the positivity
you find in creativity.

From an infant right up to my last rhyme thinking I can't do s**t
life devours me,
I need to shake that habit,
cus in rhyme my talent's apparent so I won't bow out cowardly.

I'm wasting my worth,
but have a thunderous thirst,
to rediscover some turf.
Watch me now and you'll witness,
as I drift with the surf,
and wet the earth,
of this desert,
as I p**s on the dirt.

You just heard
now watch and observe.


Copyright © Nick Trim | Year Posted 2018


Details | Hip Hop Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Old Skool Hip Hop vs Mumble

Now I can't rap but I can write and rhyme,
so in this moment of unoccupied time
Ima say what I think of this new school rap joke,
the legacy left by legends turned into a dying fire in need of a stoke.

What's with the similar flow?
each rhythm the same as before
you hear one rap, then two that's how they all go
"DAT de DAT DAT deedle dall"
change the instrumental 
and they deedle more,
or should I say "mat mo mat mat mumble mall"
Words don't matter just match the syllable,
make the beat stand out and the chorus rememberable,
that's not rap, it's pop crap 
sold to the fool who's unaware it's awful,
conned by the commercial the fact is it's bull.

They didn't air PAC on the radio,
new school tracks made in a plush luxury studio
get aired to get sells up
but they don't compare to Hit Em Up,
2pac would shut em up,
and now Eminem is the only one that shuts them up.

Oh dear I've been influenced,
4 lines rhyming one, one syllable word
That's fluent new school deliverance,
from dense thick lyric writers that write absurd.
A quick devolution that will become unheard.

Mumble track 
after mumble track,
it's tragic,
how the entire song stack,
lacks a classic,
old skool rappers on crack
have verbal skills that new school rappers lack.

New school rap is not worth 1 U.K pence
or 2 American cents
it makes no sense
..pause for suspense
then tell em the truth 
new is poo it's all nonsense
listen to old skool for the proof.

They had to censor swear words,
they don't now as no words can be heard,
and it's not like you can't hear them because of Twista and the pace,
it's because rappers no longer open the hole in their face.

New school should know it's about 
the pronunciation of your verbal account
and that requires you to open your mouth.

This is rap by its nature
if the old skool didn't speak clear
their rep was endangered
and old and new wouldn't be here.

Dissing the old skool artists that elevated the platform,
that new school inherited and now shout their crap from.

Using fabricated commercial beats designed to be catchy.
Eminem said you say this is your song but you don't know the verse,
but sing the chorus because the chorus is easy,
in rap the verse is important and it is what you remember first,
if you remember only the four chorus lines then your head is empty.

Old skool would defeat mumble in a rumble in the jungle.

2Pac, Biggie, Jay-Z and Diddy
with Snoop, Cube, Dre and Eminem
could take the new and ridicule them

OLD SKOOL WILL ALWAYS WIN.


Copyright © Nick Trim | Year Posted 2017