Steps up to the mic and loses his cool
acts like a fool, way too cool for school
flunked out twice
wasn't raised to be nice
but you better believe he can pay the full price
with his back to the wall, he falls back on his own
just when everything blows
he's spitting lyrics so hard when it hits you
you know he does have some issues but that isn't the issue
its part of a plan
to be bigger than Stan, or a man who abandoned him when he was born
fatherless can't be stressed when he's reeling in all of the cash he can get
won't look back not the way
gone for now but to stay
won't leave us not today
he isn't going away
media says he is getting depressed but they only see lyrics
they don't see his feelings
don't you run now
you can only see how
a little support raised this kid to be a rap god who took an
a whole army and won
so don't say he's done because he's winning not won
and his song has been yet to be sung.
15/04/2018. Slam Time Man
Im only a novice at this Slam style man,
So I’m gonna go hard on your so called Jam
Your slow n sloppy style make dissin you easy,
I’ll do it all day man, just cause it please me.
I’m quick n I’m quirky, always slick n not dirty,
Unlike the tripe from the gutter you snipe.
Ill go with my flow like I’m running the show,
While your heads hanging down ima takin your crown.
See this new kid in the cribs a crazy wordsmith,
My rhythm n rhyme makes you sound like a blacksmith.
My soft, sweet sound is more than you can handle,
Your rough, raspy rubbish is like rapping an anvil.
I’m too cool for school, but I’m nobody’s fool,
Your raps rudimentary, your speech so sedentary.
So I’ve pounded your game for my own personal gain,
And I winning this Slam just like that, Wham Bam.
Instead of breathing air--It is tears I take in.
I can feel them, taste them.
How does one taste their tears…
They slip down your throat when
One weeps on the inside all day.
It has been so long since I heard his voice
I repeat in my head, his last words I heard,
I am afraid I will forget.
“Mama, I love you--I am not going to die.”
I think what we would do if that call came…
No planning a family vacation, a graduation,
There will be no exciting baby announcements
Or wedding invitations
Instead, I wonder will we have a service... No… No…
We will not--
Because in the end it is only us that care.
We will not share you anymore.
Those so called friends will go on with their lives.
They will tell stories of what a bad ass you were
And how you were too cool for school.
They will say words, but will not feel the pain.
Nope--they just keep getting high--as if nothing has changed.
Omg-If they knew we may cremate you,
They would ask if they could smoke you.
Yeah--that is what such good high friends do.
Copyright © fonda anne….mooreofme....mamao
~D!~
Wonder do I how bright ignites the light
And an eagerness to stay a falling leaf kind of free
Free to find out what may be in sight
As she holds hands with beauty and empathy
Wonder do I how bright her eyes
And what wouldst I see to look inside
The lady dons no cloak nor disguise
For she has but happiness and the clock to bide
Silence selaciously sells out to an unheard voice
A lady who languishes, perhaps, only in my mind unspoken
However that may be a particularly intelligent choice
Because that way there can’t be any vows ever broken
Wonder do I to see what her mirror reveals
Is it long long dark locks like liquid flowing?
And will I ever really know what and how she feels
However, perhaps It’s better my not knowing
And no, D. you ain’t sharing none of the royalties!
But thanks for the inspiration (did you once ask me where that comes
from?….my inspiration......look no further than your toilet bowl...made of porcelain, and
now you know at least one of my muses ....u are too cool for school!
© 2011.….~free cee!~
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