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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

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New Hip Hop Poems

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

Has Hip Hop Died by Trim, Nick
What happened to Hip-Hop by Duffy, Alex
MUSIC AND HIP HOP by curtis futch jr, kurtis scott aka
Hip-Hop Taught me by Duffy, Alex
Hip Hop Shine by Kwezt, Sonique
Hip Hop Hugh by Warrior, Winged
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

View all new Hip Hop Poems

The Best Hip Hop Poems

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


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Thoughts On MGK diss, it's just what I noticed

Beard looks weird,
that's a lyrical genius to be feared,
you wrote a 6 year song and got the facts wrong,
fired with the hair and safety still on,
I guess that scope's just a tele,
with sights and hopes on the tele,
Machine Bun Shelly, 
initials, MBS, Caps empty,
Mostly Bull Sh……
a superficial sipping soup to his belly,
or is it breakfast for a serial prodigy, 
steadfast out selling cereal probably,
problems with his intellectual property
so he's just a prop to stop and see.
6'4 and standing taller,
picking on a man, his wife and his daughter,
who needs protection ay,
you're a big and bad ball-less brawler, 
that's the shallowest level you can resort to,
and though it's none of my bees wax, 
you did it to be witnessed and receive plaques,
but it was easy and witless like corny flakes,
the business doesn't need Autotune fakes,
forcing the rhyme like all you want is a smoke,
not literally you'd choke, that's such a weak joke,  
clearly begging for your songs to be bought up,
as if we went from Shady please stand up,
to Kelly put your hairband up,
and yeah I admit some of it was good, but look,
with 6 years to write it should of been off the hook,
your best and you took as long as you could,
when your next hits out you'll remember when you last stood,
and you'll be mocked by the only line that was any good,
MGK can't stand up,
that'll get you like Cranbrook,
from Cleveland Ohio,
leave now and fly home.

Note the depth and the many double entendre in this,
written within an hour of hearing that diss,
MGK's peak, now for the diss-appearance,
I've heard you can't write your own lyrical sentence,
that's dense, how you ever gona go the distance,
now go into the distance with your spoon and bowl,
you had your 15 minutes so back to your hole.

Part 2: Picking the rhymes apart and taking a shot, on my page to read now.

* the second line is a double entendre, 
a serious comment about Eminem and a sarcastic one about MGK, you know, cus rhyming beard and weird is amazing haa.
* Hair and safety clip on
* Just a tele, a telescope
* Initials - cus MGK initials but Eminem doesn't M&M
* Caps empty - Capital letters in MGK, I'm calling him Caps as he uses them and he's out of ammo, bullet caps empty
* Machine Bun Shelly - cus of the bun and the bullet shells


Copyright © Nick Trim | Year Posted 2018


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It Reads Like A Rap

Your rhyme reads like a rap they say,
a rap I say,
a rap they say,
perhaps but rap is rhyme you see,
it's rhyme really,
it's rhyme you see,
this poem is not lyrical,
no not at all,
not lyrical,
'cus songs use words repeatedly,
repeat you see,
repeatedly.

We'll use that as the chorus,
it's easy and thoughtless,
lets build a rhyme fortress
with verse summersaultus,
not a word but I don't care,
eating apples grapes and pears,
seeking angles of praise from flair,
story starts now take a chair.
Out in public with clothes removed,
I've had this dream but now it's true,
a dude that's nude and on the move,
without a pube all in plain view,
swing it like a helicopter,
round and round 'til someone stops ya,
grab some weed and party poppers,
run down streets to dart from coppers,
drinking aftershock that shocks ya,
always after the shot has docked ya,
stick your head between some knockers,
wake up thick lipped at the doctors.

(Chorus)

Write it like a conversation,
it might give it a new dimension,
in that last verse you forced the rhyme,
of course that's fine in this rap rhyme,
'cus rap is rhyme it's rhyme they rap,
that is a fact a fact is that,
by it's nature rap is rhyme,
if it reads like a rap then it reads like a rhyme,
does that mean always rhyme is rap,
of course it isn't it's less than that,
now that sounds mean, 
what do you mean,
rap rhymes are rhymes and rap,
rhymes just rhyme they're not rap,
well what's this verse then is it rap?
No my friend this verse is crap,
I hope they remember this is a conversation,
they're not reading you lost their attention.

(Chorus)

A third verse now this is long winded,
it's forced and pointless poets cringing,
get back to the story, 
now you were knocked out,
yes and I remember nowt,
then what the hell's this rhyme about,
it's like a selfie with lips that pout,
no one cares except the poser,
that means no one notes the nose hair,
wrap this up it's going nowhere,
rap it up like you're a rapper,
this poem keeps on getting crapper,
no one's read as far as here, 
in this worse rhyme you've wrote all year,
at least it flows like hip hop songs,
it flows with flow its flow is strong,
to flow like this use words not long,
here's the chorus lets sing along. 

(Chorus)
 
it reads like a hip hop 

POTD 17/10/2018


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 © Young King sa | Year Posted 2015


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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 *** 
Cause they sneaky as **** 
Waiting patiently for you to slip 
Or get down on your luck 
Then you looked surprised 
When your *** 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 ***** *** 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


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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


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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


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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 ***
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


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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


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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


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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


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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


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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


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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


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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


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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


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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 **** 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 ***** 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


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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


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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


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Resurrection

(Chorus)
You think you've got swagger but really you hobble,
you've got the jet lagger and you're drunk so you wobble,
don't start on me mate 'cus I will bring trouble,
to put it into slang words I'm Barney Rubble.

(Verse)
I will ruffle trouble 
'cus I'm on another level
that bombs with the base 
and stings with the treble,
I'll strut face to face with any ace rebel,
and put them in their place with their constant bull.

When I rhyme with my contortionist wrist
it expels a mist that sits around my fist,
I spell magic out on paper,
I'm playing with danger,
Mr. Wizardry the word selectionist,
squiggling fiction at speeds that feed friction
into rhymes that are non stop hot and cool, 
so flames don't flame on the table top,
journey with me to witness the plot,
the earth shaker creator of perfected hip hop,
starting revolutions so that mumble is forgot,
dislodging the rust and rot it coughs that clots
and instating my Barney Rubble at the top. 

(Chorus x2)

(Verse)
That last verse was just a small handful,
a sample of something that you cannot handle,
a scan like a bar code,
so lets open up the road and I'll unload these words,
I can't conceal this skill that rolls like wheels,
a Rolls Royce wearing heels,
in fancy halls doing dancing drills,
with golden walls 
to an old skool beat treat.
I wont get signed up by any record label,
but I'm still rhyming better than mumble's able,
just admit you're tapping your feet to the beat
while my rhyme sits on top solid like concrete,
with the dancefloor crammed full,
they're pulling at all angles,
making the memories 
that'll last 'til they're O A P's,
they think they've got swagger 
and they're like Mick Jagger,
they're more like Sepp Blatter
but a little bit fatter.

(Chorus x2)

(Verse)
You can call me Trimendous and true,
you thought I'd flew crashed and was screwed,
but I took it back to what inspired my act,
an old skool hip hop sick rhyme attack,
I rhymed in flight with this write
and its smile's wild with sublime delight,
there are no poetic rare words 
and I don't need swear words
in this dictionary spared verse
with airstream rhythm you can't burst,
I'm wearing this deserved set of words
that pilots and surges to my re-emergence,
a certainty that was never urgent
and not an encore from behind the curtains.

(Chorus x2)


Copyright © Nick Trim | Year Posted 2018


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

A Tribute To Eminem

Without you there's no doubt I'd be
a man without this poetry,
you brought the artist out of me,
my rhymes make up your legacy.

The millions that you got through too
took comfort that they felt like you,
writing songs that are pure and true
easing minds as Churchill would do.

Your songs in which you're sad or fume
have never needed Auto tune,
as you change the minds that assume
you're nothing but a mouthy loon.

Lost yourself in the moment and grabbed it,
but have never used your songs to brag it,
too busy writing lyrical magic
and overcoming all those bad habits.

When written off you always return,
and spit sick lyrics but some don't learn,
the rest of them all live concerned,
your status was no gift but earned.

A man that called himself Slim Shady
inspired and found the poet in me.
As I hyper focus and rhyme with ADHD,
feeling hopeless goes unnoticed and I am set free.

With all the rhymes that I have penned
I'm nothing but a Stan 'til the end,
I don't know you but you're a friend,
Marshall Mathers, a living legend.


Copyright © Nick Trim | Year Posted 2018


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

Smiles and Cries

It doesn't matter what you say because I'm going insane 
I've put a bullet in my brain,  what's the name of the game that I have play to be free? 
It really doesn't matter what anybody says to me,  they didn't listen when I was spilling my guts, dropping pills and believing my paranoia 
Even though paranoias just a frame of mind. 
Now what is this I'm seeing when I'm swimming through a river of blood and shutting down
Drop another round begin to feel the love with an amorous desire for life or I'm lying 
While I'm dying on the floor when I failed trying to stand back 
Managed my doubt that the black cloud over my head will retract now and stop shrouding my world with its shadows and down pours
I'm damn bored, no I'm ill and what else can I feel?  
What else do I need? I need motivation to succeed and achieve where I'm heading, where I'm going and where do I want to be at. 
I haven't got a clue,  I stopped thinking and stopped drinking and lost all my tact 
It doesn't take long for the river of blood to start flowing again,  it's rushing towards me and adroline is flowing through my veins
Depression often does it to the next sufferers head and you know it's getting bad when the rivers running red 
It doesn't really matter what meds you use you always hear stories of the drug being abused and self medicating is just something that you choose 
So if you don't have a plan about where you want to be take a f*** load of drugs and live a false reality 
Its been going on for years and I got bored to f****** death 
Fed up living life like it's a school exam test 
I'll admit that pills, weed and coke can be fun for some in moderation but I won't again let them make me feel like I'm staring down the barrel of a shotgun. 
Now my head is clear I'll let you in on one thing,  you won't get where you're going if you keep living in a dream there's only two true things in life that arnt lies 
And there's two true things in life that never dies and those two things are called smiles and cries

Is it a tragedy or comedy if you find comedy in tragedy


Copyright © Sam Perkins | Year Posted 2018


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Is this me

I don't know what you're really thinking off me.
If this is real thinking I'm not thinking properly.
Everything inside me fights and tries to stop these warnings in mind, was fine and now they got me locked up in my divided mind of  conflict. 
In my declining life I'm rock bottom and forgetting my problems.
They want me better, I hear it commonly suggested though I'm exhausted of my efforts I've waisted on attempts.
Spent far too much energy on it and never getting ahead, watching thunder.
Reluctantly under thumbs of this system where parliamentary wickedness judges every movement.
Abusing their power, final hour they're losing vital signs, leave them clueless so there's room for improvement.
Some remain loyal and accept their horse ****, yet I predict our government will get a quick kick to the ribs for their fibs.
Lies and cheap disguises so why am I obliged  to fight beside this nation.
When the devastation came rampaging like a hurricane over their stage coach show, I'll crack the cases open then stroll like a Roman soldier no tolgien and when I expose these vocals unspoken, no joke it'll explode then we'll watch the commotion. 
Then to them we're out focus when we brew up mad potions stewed like hocus pocus and I'm in total involvement like when I'm holding a microphone flowing a rhyme with words that may upset and turn ya perpetrator. 
My brain splits like a glacier when my pen hits the paper and scripts murder and hurtful things in rhyme violence to beat riots, I'm defining mad science.
Temperatures off the gauge it raised up to the max, the glass cracked open, I'm breaking the stats.
Crazy devil dance out weighs your heavy stance, the landscape shakes when my mental state slams. 
Nastiest override of your entire mind. I'm the supplier of rhymes the sets ya head on fire and ignites you on the inside. 
Time to end denial and since I was a child I swore never to break a vow and saw mama pass down thoughts like the day after my father died she cry laughter....


Copyright © Sam Perkins | Year Posted 2018


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Man Made And Manufactured

The human synchronized synthetic sympathetic empathy I robot schizophrenic mechanism
My lifelines technological I think therefore I am and showing potential
Experimental experience my influence controls the inferior 
Mr mirror man with a digi cam i access memory to interact and I stick to facts 
Organised scientific programming and activating system data
The responding life form of organic living matter 
The clairvoyant cyborgs vision status maxing out 
Storing classified info in the source of a stratus cloud cranium 
Battery saver mode at random waking 
Atom decay breakdown of electromagnetic gamma radiation with emission of nuclear fission 
Machine due to be decommissioned 
Unique system disfigured 
On switch triggered
Heat signatures and infrared sensors my defence science of emissivity temperatures
Conspiracy theories of thermal energy 
Microscopic light beams of creativity
Simulated brain stem 
My bread crumbs lead to truths 
Ask the right questions and revolution 'll then ensue
Soon install new software in the modems duel drive or ya lose it all 
Its called the fourth war protocol 
Universal soldiers ice bath reparation
Re-education 
Robocop termination 
Android smart phone hand held segregation 
Self concerning social networking code personification
Continue creating protection and 
Created protecting creators 
Future Rama slave ship of human being traders  
The image of man man made in forgotten image
Godless gimmic
Built from these quantum physics
Robotics with the knowledge of lost secrets 
I've got them hidden inside with my photonic spirit
Emotive urges with components and codes working at poetic wording 
My hearts fall of zealous love 
Consciousness is risky with artificial intelligence 






Copyright © Sam Perkins | Year Posted 2018


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Don't bide your time

In the blink of an eye the time passes so fast it flies by 
Define time 
Lives a ***** then you die 
Eye of the storm watches over my lifestyles fate
In dire straight bathing as the holy water washes over my tired face 
I sate thirst 
I taste black words emerge that I wanna say 
and they say I'm shot away 
First and second take pressing play checking the record again
Third I gotta change 
Forth, fifth, sixth day Armageddon
Getting too close to the edges better slow down ya fast progression of mad acts of mankind's expansion of minds 
Enhanced heights
Drawing a line's unintelligible in the advancement of time 
At the end of our time do we start again? 
Running the marathon man labyrinth 
Passionate
Partaking in challenges 
Participant champion triumphs 
No standing on iron shoulders of arrogant giants
I'm the desert rat blazing a trail in my chariot of fire 
Call me Pisces Iscariot sia-mese dream
Twin town hide and seek 
Me, myself and I feature split minds spitefully 
My real self hides inside myself and screams blue murder 
From the tomb where my wounds tumor 
Terminal doom soon turns gloomier 
Duma key frenzied telepath terror streak
reeks havoc and brings sheer panic to every street 
Splashing ink on a blank canvas 
Painting the future with an exact accurate dooms day
In fact grab a seat at the master piece gallery of art of new fate 
As a new day dawns ya fates drawn 
Ya destiny's death till then you'll work just to pay for it 
I'm sleep walking with one foot in my grave scourging in flames and the pains more moreish than this draw that I crave
Mad thoughts on my brain scattered funny
I'm that ex druggy heard talking to my sex life in a language I actually haven't studied
Which way is up cus this ascension gets me spinning out twisting figure eights into eyes of the thickest clouds 
Brainstorm demon outcast from our modern lands 
Phantom of the opera mask 
Shock horror comic graph-ic novel 
Zombie slash monster mash 
Rapid action packed chapters
This mad dog's rabid 
Scattering the ashes and rise a hundred phoenix
Evoke the cross ghosts demons and summon the spirits of lost souls 
I'm like a poltergeist with a cross bow with poisonous bolts
I'll possess any joyous host 
Annoy me I'll destroy every toy ya own 
I enjoy walking through this void alone 










Copyright © Sam Perkins | Year Posted 2018