Okay, we’ll call this joint “One”
So bright, fingers point, like I’m the sun
I hit like guns, intended with no puns
See my mind is an uzi and it still weighs a ton
It’s Freestyle Friday who ready to flow wit me
I hold the controls that roll, bold and swiftly
UFO, my joints are unexplainable flying objects
I’m out of this world and no one can stop it
Kissing moon and stars with my lead filled rocket
Cop it, I still drop it like asteroids, I rocks it
I’m hot when I pop it and I pops it [out] like sockets
Yep, that means I hit hard when I sock it
Came to earth to destroy every wack emcee
But since my birth, even they tried to laugh at me
So I turned the mic on and said this is how it has to be
So I smash and I trashed, and I crashed them until they asked for me
Still maybe I’m not respected, but I still check it
And when I turn the mic on, I’m know to bless it
Fucking over haters, I’m infected and their unprotected
Try as they may to move away, but still I’m connected
Flowing like its Friday, spitting my introspective
Going over highways, leaving everyone affected
It’s your boy Dirty Cash and I’m down with the collected
See we the Lyrical Assassins and we always perfected
This piece is fully understood Frankie. I love it. It sad when people sincerity can be questioned and you can feel the vibes from them. You smashed it with this joint. Keep’em coming Frankie!
Dirty Cash,Lucky Lefty,the Black Raven
Multiple personalities bring psychopaths a safe haven
Misbehave’n, crave’n, lacerated lines that form a dynasty
D-Cipher, the front line, and behind him, it’s me
Black Phoenix, Golden Arms, and me Ema call me Emo
I flip crazy lines, with a G.I. Joe kungfu grip flow
Hold tighter than anyone you know, the nigga on the block like Dee Bo
I back street them boys who try to be nsync with my flows
Yeah, you we grow, I mean, grew since 2009
With cultivated a family and are words became sublime
Spit murder every line, we straight murderers with our minds
Lyrical Assassins at the top of the game, It’s our Time!
BP and me on this and we makes two
He said rock that shit until they hate you
I’m like “Yo, haters hate, so of course I can’t wait to…”
So I drop this thick, blowing out candles and cakes too
Flows ain’t nothing, but yo, that’s how they rate you
Catz be fronting, behind your back wanting to take you
It’s ain’t new, I’ve been dropping this since the age two
And I’ll still be dropping until I’m in my grave dude
Unstoppable with the pen that means I race through
Unknockable within, my soul is known to waist crews
I’m a lyrical homicidal maniac with suicidal tendencies
Killing everything and demolishing all of my enemies
I’m Tupac’ing it, riding slow, sipping on Hennessey
Dropping it, a little as I go, until someone is emptying me
We in a battle zone leaving scars and blasting chrome
It’s either go hard or you might be asked to go home
So, I’ll continue to grind this shit out, I’m bad to the bone
Getting in haters domes like if we had us some combs
Sit next to me, but realize, one thing, this is my throne
I’m contaminated, full blown, until my mind is gone
Who’s wanna plot with me and further my plight
Paper down, jot with me as we scheme to murder the write
Tonight’s the night…
‘Sit next to me, but realize, one thing, this is my throne
I’m contaminated, full blown, until my mind is gone
Who’s wanna plot with me and further my plight
Paper down, jot with me as we scheme to murder the write
Tonight’s the night…
Tonight’s the night, that I come through
One plus ones equals an 100 assassin crew
We rhyme like two. do what we have too
It’s great minds, with great lines, come see what we do
This is Assassin Vice he’s Crockett and I’m Tubb
Armani flow type brothers snatch’n weak flows of streets like drugs
Poetry is our love, so we clearing it from all the bugs
Create’n a flow that’s psychorhymatistical, “BP, SAY WHAT”
WORD!, I say’n ish that ya vocab never heard
Told ya before I put the action in the verbs
I’m the “WO” int the words
I spit so the the blind can see,
And this is the freestylin weekend, so let see who following me
Scrolls are set, ink’s on jet, sit back, relax cuz u ain’t seen nothing yet
my blue veins turn red as the ink flows outta me
tipped back my hat so I can see how far I burn u to the third degree
rhyme hating cats arch backs and throw hisses
tryn to run game, scratch pads but they pisses
and moans about how they’re destructive
I laugh, turn my back, let them marinate in my wetness conductive
no dry ink here fellas cuz I’m always creating
words getting fixed, twisted, rolled, continuous plaiting
like corn rows all set up like paths to the brain
you’ll be boiled and roasted with words driving u insane
in the membrane with hollow point echo
soon you’ll be seeing Joseph with raincoat and rainbow in techno
so pray to your maker he knows you are on your way out
get down on them knees, son, speak tongues, twist and shout
Love the Joseph and his amazing coat reference Marsha, I just luv how you always bring such in teresting lines to your writes the cat and his arched back is another great one. Well done!
Mz. Marsha set the intro, you heard your end is near
So, Spsst! Come a lil closer let me whisper in your ear
Don’t fear, your ends here, the first lady has spoken
Like the phoenix tat she possess, the spirit will rise an not broken
You’ll be a token, of carnage set in front of gathering of your friends
Cause no one should die alone when its time to meet their end
Please put down the paper and pen, Assassins are here again
And our freestyles are razor sharp, cut’n deep beneath your skin
Looks like I’m breaking bad, I make them twist and shout
Flipping doubt, take them out, got them switching routes
Still freestyling, call this one “Three”, I’m still kicking out
Throat got so much saliva, never am I spitting droughts
Keep dropping it until I’m cotton mouth, I cough it out
Until wise men, wander the desert, lost with doubt
I spit blood from my soul, give me a second and I’ll hawk it out
This is hip hop, and live it like I walk with gout
Well know Assassin, my plight is documented in X files
I break jaws when I jot, yes, I’m quick to check smiles
For miles and miles, my flow is untamed and left wild
And you can’t tell me nothing, like I’m a deaf child
I roll with it, puff it up, smoke these cats and leave them blunted
Chased by police dogs, my style is American’s most hunted
Wanted, I flaunt it, like my slab was sideways and stunted
So damn addicted I had an intervention, I had to be confronted
But fuck it, I’ll be this way until I put the mic down
And if haters wanna play, best believe I might clown
Still I pick the bong up, because they told me to pipe down
So now I’m higher then a cloud and faster then a light sound
Ok, its a massacre, by master of debaters
Ha! Listen now and you can catch the joke later
This is three for all the haters, or so call poet relaters
I’m online, in real time, not memorex like all the fakers
I’m am a creator, great than, the most common denominator
Square root of Pi, bringing the math to the spoken word players
I’m spray ya, with flava, that you can savor, and taste
After ya full, you’ll be CHOPPED, your out this place
Assassins run’n a race, we far ahead of the game
Who want war with the L.A.B., freestyle with the fury of Flames!
Audio…..
AUD—diiiiiii–ooooo
testing
for impressing
AUD –Aud–audiiiiiiiiiiiii-ooo
here we go..
mic’s ready to throw
free-style
getting it up
here we go —
oh yeah
i get psyched
minds running like a spigot
words turning wicked
wanna jam
playing my keyboard
like a baby grand
i be in command
of what goes out
and what comes in
what was and should have been
we wanna do a win/win..
oh yeah i’m psyching
the beat of my heart
pounds between my breast
playing drum-rolls
under my chest
jam time — now bounce
on the vibes
i be pouring down
like a storm of thunder
i be roaring my sounds
like a lightening bolt
striking you
fireing up your booty
clappin your hands
and shaking your azz
free-style– first class
i gots a diamond mic
a silver D-64
on top sits a eagle
raising his wings
soaring my phrases
loving the juice that i bring
like the grapes of tuscany
turning to fine wine
i’m gonna bust
the enemy
and do it with the best of me
oh yeah i’m psyching
playing my keyboard
like a baby grand
i be in command
of what goes out
and what comes in
what could
and should have been
we wanna do a win / win
here’s one for the cause
thanks for the applause
i leave with a curtsey.
and a wink—flirtsy
thanx Frankie i seen a beautiful pic of the grapes of tuscany from a friend who was in italy last week— and they were gorgeous!!! delicious!!! you could practically taste the wine they would be making…..guess i couldnt get them out of my mind!!!
debby
thanx … just having a good time………….loving rhyme…………..and all the words inbetween —— sounds like my next one… do you hear any words in your dreams…………??? lol– thanks again……..debby
Leave them screwed and chopped, chopped
You knew I’d always keeps it hot, hot
This should have been named “Two” the way I drop, drop
Laugh it up, chuckle, chuckle, Ha, Ha
Lock and load; nothing I ever drop is average
I pops the code, for those who never had shit
This ain’t rock and roll, its hip hop and she’s a bad bitch
It’s like she lost her soul, but has a bliss hot like magic
Hops like a rabbit, looking for carrots and cabbage
See it’s tragic, if with all I gots, I ain’t living lavish
Catz be talking all that bass, but all I hear is static
So I stay in their face, there’s no way to mask it
See, I told you I was a fanatic, spitting flows like automatics
You can’t kill the beast, if you talk shit or stab it
I’m served on platters, deep fried with a batter
Making haters scatter, no teeth, so no chatter
Getting deep in brains, leaving stains like grey matter
Loony as fuck, going against the grain like the Madd Hatter
Here I go leave’n em chopped and screwed, screwed
Serve on a plate like and entrée bland food, food
Served with white wine, I preferred if they were grilled, grilled
Golden arms on the freestyle, about to get ill, ill
Screw’d food grilled ill, show rhyme scheme spill skill
Poetic Holyfield, call me the real deal
I’m tasked with a duty to keep minds mentally sharp
Keep my Pandora box of poetry locked deep in my heart
Only to be released it when the soul flows through the fire in my ink
I am a phoenix, full of fiyah, what the fuck did ya think
I’m strategic make moves like the mystery of chess box’n
Writing to a tempo of my homie Dougie Fresh, beat box’n
The heat from me keep pop’n, the street for me keep rock’n
TOP OF THE WORLD MA! THE BLACK PHOENIX AINT STOP’N
It’s the return of Lucky Lefty, burying catz chest deep
Don’t care if they detest me, as long as they respect me
Check me, I’m strong arming it with flows so messy
And I’m kicking out teeth on snitches who stay pesky
You don’t like me, then you can kiss my left cheek
Don’t draw on me, cause I’ve always been sketchy
Get me? I’m all about making ends with friends
Faithful to most, but I put and end to those who pretend
Shots go off from my pen, leave’em stiff like manikins
Fill them up with jelly that means I’m jamming them
I’ll break any lyrical levy, yep, I keep damning trends
And kill of any one of yous, who can’t stand to bend
This ain’t ganksta style, I’m causing “Havoc, like I’m mob deep
I’m a “Prodigy” so wild, I creep even when the blog reeks
Cutting off hands, bury them in Yonkers and chopping off feet
Leaving style nameless in the Hudson, so you can toss sheets
You know a made man keeps the code and we don’t speak
And I’m just like my money, I can’t and I won’t sleep
Might as well, that was # 10. ha. I need just a couple more and a hidden track and I’ll be on my way.
D
September 26, 2011 at 8:35 pm
mike
love the flow, but know the currents can sweep you under the undertow.
Know life is precious. but the second you leap you can fall from another blow.
speechless. under no circumstance will i ever be a numbered soul
The days are long, the slumbers slow. i wonder though
how lighthing strikes but thunder glows.
The small things will get you killed but only me and them hunters know.
love is like finding a needle in haystack. Something so brilliant will leave
you and your past dazed as you attempt to go way back.
Love is near so find the nearest exit and stay back.
The things you find so precious about love. Well i hate that.
But i need it. I find it such a pearl . If you cant find it then, be it.
Most of the time it’s blind so Love can’t see it….
Break the chains , free it. . You can break my legs but i’ll knee it.
I’ma love until my art is dead. love is the reason that my heart is red.
My art is love. my love is art. Without the two i’ll have no heart. ..
ehhh trying to get in the freestyle groove aint workin popz!!!
I hear the bitch with her puppies barkin
at scraps and fear
of the trail I’m marking
I’ll cut the tails from between your legs
and howl at your voice
as it bleeds from iron pegs
hammered into “Red Dirt” and bile
staining each link in your tether
green and red with quivering fear
And there you lie, belly up
submissive to any sound
that means escape, a place to run,
from the pain of silence, afraid to speak
or think of thoughts that rhyme
You have a master within you
gett off your haunches
and stand proud of true
I hear the bitch with her pupiies barkin
at scraps and fear
of the trail I’m markin
6ix
This is for Michael, sometimes love is a quick fix
Most of the time, its diarrhea, see, its sick shit
All compromise and trust me, I have lived this
Hearts broken, the art of love is filled with mischief
And I am always a misfit who believes its all kismet
Love makes the heart flutter and it makes me fidget
My thoughts stutter, I’m left open like slit wrists
Constantly hoping, she gets me and she gets it
But even if she does, things always seem to change
The bonds that held you, fall apart like broken chains
I know this sounds cynical, but love is a hopeless game
But I am in love with love, so that means at times I choke with pain
And it’s only when you get wet, that you know its rain
My heart burns to the point that I’m forced to soak in flames
Love is abstract art, different to everyone who looks at it
But I’ll cut off an ear for it to hear me or at least take a stab at it
I’m a hopeless romantic; it’s a drug and I’m such a bad addict
Looking for that quick fix, cause if even for a moment, I’m glad to have it
God darnit, D-Cipher, you use your tongue prettier than a twenty dollar whore. LOL.. Sorry I had to use that line.. I was Watching blazing saddles while I read this…lol
Wow, too many great line in this joint Bel. Really feeling this. “Faster The Car is The Bigger Drive, Either Its All In A Small Pen or Its All In A Big Voice”. Niiiiiice.
I’m abrasive Call me Sybil in her dire stages
My pen carries different faces..I meant phases
Either way I HATE them all so fuck it I’m a racist
I’m beyond offensive
I ride borderlines like they do my bloodline on fences
And snatch their spines so I can hang their blind eyes onto picket signs
While I explode worse than Iraq and gasoline combined
I ate so much reality I’m dealing with obesity
Tried to give it back but got bulimia and questioned as a conspiracy
But I showed my ass and drained diarrhea on their publicity
So unsettled..unraveled and untitled ..fuck it I never had a placement
And scientists still think I came from an ape getting pregnant
They must’ve hit their heads when the blast hit the pavement
Or maybe I did? that would explain my derangement
But then again my brain and I never had an engagement
It kept leaving me for the growing polygamy
Now I sit with the rest of society fucking myself for monogamy
So I don’t understand why they keep wanting to keep me in therapy
When I’m finally using their only means 2 stay sane as a remedy!
WOW! Now, this is some straight talking INK. Tried to pick out my fav line, but if I do, I have to pick out the entire poem. Absolutely fanfuckintastic INK
Wooooooow……I needed all these reads today….even though I missed it yesterday…..This was an awesome post….everyone did wonderful….Marsha I looooooooovvvee when you let that pen out the bag…….Here we go gang….
FREESTYLE
It’s been a while since I let my pen bleed metaphorically
So bow down to the crown and get down with my floetry
My mind tripping cuz I been slipping on some real life ish
No time for foolishness, eliminating all
fakeness
lifeless
childish
and corruptible ways
New lessons no stressing bettering myself like school days
Don’t get upset when I press eject cuz your rhythm I’m not feeling
Inhale to exhale to prepare you for my venom that I’m spitting
I’ve captured your mind in time
and kidnapped your hypothalamus
Sending signals to your organs, your aorta I’m bout to bust
Nervous system on crash, equilibrium descending
Your lungs have collapsed on you there’s no depending
Your time is up, maxed out, with no reconciliation
My intellect can’t stress on your self-indulgent behavior
You lost me to everything incapable of loving you back
Can’t live life through the sensations of your ball sac
Now I’m on a different job and the CEO is ME
My office is ran by a higher power
And He’s filled all of my vacancies
This QUEENDOM is closed….
OMG! What a POWERFUL write. ‘I am woman hear me roar’ comes to mind, Love these lines, ‘Can’t live life through the sensations of your ball sac
Now I’m on a different job and the CEO is ME’ but, the entire write was just mind boggling.
Ive wasted ink on plastered thought
The words I fought were worth the lost
At any cost
They crossed freedom of spiritual reality
It hurts to say words as such would ever come out of me
HONESTLY!
I promised me
In totality,
Never to spit hate.
Can you relate?
A words dynasty
Can be confined in me
If I use it as a weapon an not to create!
EXAMPLE
Fuck the spics, crackers, niggas and terrorist
Raghead, gooks, and chinks, I know they scared of this
Porch monkeys, hoodlums, crackheads running free
Theses are the destructive words the youth will come to see
Words of wasted talent shown anger by man
Was not the reason poetry was placed in our hands
Ain’t nothing free, not even the ink in my pen
I lift my hands to the Lord, but I feel it from within
Covered in sin; where shall I begin
Where does it go and when will it all end
Life spins, but I’m here at a standstill
Being dumped on by societies landfill
Poison crammed in my brain and I can’t keep my hands still
I’m open to what ever, so now they say this mans ill
I hold a hand full of pills and broken dreams
Red, pink, blue, all spill along with purple and green
Red was for my heart that burst at the seems
Pink was for my tender insides that hurt by all means
Blue was for my soul; the light no longer beams
Purple was for my mind when it tried to scream
And green, green was for just holding back my schemes
I swallow them down to kill the demonic fiends
As I floated higher…for a moment I touched heaven
Angelic whispers in my ear remind me that this is write number 7
But it was over taken by the devils tone in my head that deafened
And wait, weight…I fell faster then lead, through various sections
Then…
Static… cartoons… mathematical equations… birth
My wings burned and I crashed back to the earth
Staring in the mirror to catch my self worth
Stranded in this paddle cell, with only myself to hurt
its impossible to have a Fav with u….fukin impossible… wait no i remember this one piece u did for ur daughter and its still outweighs all … nevertheless… u rocked this piece even with all its emotions flying in different directions
i dont want to ever get out of here…
this is where i ruffle my feathers
and do whatever i dare…
i shine my boot soles..
and liven up my own sole (soul)
i tip my hat
and nod my head
with that hello is what i said…
friends nourish
ships flourish (friendships)
i always encourage …
the lost
i always acknowledge
the dead
i pray for our heros….
…
and i cry for their mothers…
the fathers always blame themselves
and stock bottles upon their shelves
to keep them liquidfied
to act dignified
every now and then slap their wives..
they slap their wives right on the ass.
and yeah you know right where that ends up!!
3 guesses you can’t lose
couch — floor—- table
let’s have a nother shot of that booze…
now you better save them dar cans-
cause
i’ll tell the junk man on you
and he’ll be sure to ride your street
and park his vehicle
in front of your house…….
everynight…
give you somebody to pick on…
whoa lots of fun….
like I said
I don’t ever want to get outta here
here’s a curtsey
and a wink — flirtsy………………………Debby Frank Glennon
i got my luggage
leaving it on your doorstep
take my baggage
to the guest room??
well now that you say what??
I’m no longer a guest here??
what i gots to pay for my beer?
now they wannna call me family
if thats what you think
inside my suitcase
got me 12 bottles of mace
aiming at your face
and i never lend money to fam—-ily
fifty bucks
be buying me breakfast, lunch, and
promising me no sobriety
a dreamless night
induced by notararity
unpacking my bags..
planning to hang
where words
kill like swords
where guns
blast thru puns
where bullets fly
and no one dies…
and everybody goes home tonight…………………………..By Debby Frank Glennon
my bags are empty
i’m ready to sleep
closing the eyes
stopping the visions
sounds
everything around…
good night all poets
good night all friends
good-nite to my rivals …
good- nite to my fans….
if you know the lines
repeat after me…if not — good- nite……..By Debby Frank Glennon….
Faster than the speed of sound,
Dirty Cash hits the ground
running with words
making all the rebounds
He’s the dealer, the peeler,
a lyrical wheeler
spitting venom every second
with perfect bravado
making time like there’s no stopping him,
Mr. Movado
Alarm set to chime
when lames come to rip snort
Dirty Cash … armed and ready
treatin them wannabees like a genital wart
Warts, syphilis, even herpes and scabies
I’m infecting all wannabies with lyrical rabies
Foaming at the mouth; taking bites off of their poetic babies
Until I’m lock jawed or at least until they taz me
Shocking, but my every jot is shifty and shady
Marsha should have warned you that I was simply crazy
Puffing on that purple stuff until my every thought is hazy
High on Crush, I bust stupid shit until everyone hates me
I’m addicted to the flow; I’m like whoa, please take me
And I’ve been rocking rhymes ever since the early eighties
Offending dudes, ladies, and even poetic masters
It’s a disaster because my hands are slow but my flow is faster
So I keep trying to play catch up, I mean catcher
Every rhyme that comes in gets disposed like I’m a body snatcher
It all gets deciphered and chopped up from the lyrical hacker
No cameras or directors; I’ve never been an actor
Yes, it’s the word professor, glowing like a nuclear reactor
The verb smasher, rolling over catz with a metaphorical tractor
Love me or hate me, but believe me, I have always been a factor
And when the world comes to an end, I’ll be writing the day after
It’s the return of the heavy weights
Flow like Katrina watch how the levies break
Drowning haters at such a steady rate
Wait…class in session, don’t test your fate
BP and me, we the dynamic duo, but fuck it we both batman
Get it straight, dirty mouth spittas who belong in a trash can
No grouch, tell Oscar we leaving more holes in catz like an afghan
We’re unbreakable shattering jaws on every glass man
Flash in a pan, lightning in a bottle, ha, or just a kill in time
Choke the throttle that would be us if lightning strikes a billion times
Feel my mind? Bloody knuckles – I’m still on the grind
With so many chuckles, that’s me just killing these lines
Drinking the Kool-Aid; Hey Jim, do you have any crackers with this
It just a fools fate, wake up… I seen to many slackers just quit
Microphone empty, stay asleep; I’ll attack it and spit
And rip some of the most vile shit that a bastard can spit
This is number 8, the buffet open stack up your plate
Fill it up high, life is great and the diet will have to wait
It’s the Black Raven, darker then the mind of Wes Craven
Lyrical switch blading, knives grind, shining on the throats of dead maidens
Gutting rhymes, dissecting verses; every noun and verbs I’m filleting
Licking the blade, slicing tongues with no delaying
I’m crawling under skin, misbehaving – extraterrestrial
Making women cringe; flowing more then a monthly menstrual
Back strokes, I lack jokes so I’m swimming in a dead pool
Surrounded by creepy crawly critters until my heads full
Sleeping on 9 inch nines, for lunch I dine in hell
Stabbing the beast with a side dish of swine and snails
I’m inclined to bail, see I got a mind to fail
So I drag three dead bodies with me, I might as well
Back hand the devil, leave him pummeled and leveled
Grab my shovel and advance to another level
I don’t even write anymore, I’m carving it in the back of head
Lay them face down on the floor, so I can see what I last said
Silent
The assasins
mind is a dangerous
tool sharper than any weapon
in a fools arsenal
more powerful
than peace
Searching eyes scorch the landscape
of a desert valley littered with bones
without flesh, like words without meaning
the pulse lost in time and rythyms are memories
for romantics and fools long buried in dust
The sound of the screeching hawk soars
on thermal twists of fate as the assasin
gazes undistracted at possibilities and horizons
glowing orange and melting into tomorrow, “It’s my time.”
He thinks as darkness rises from the parched landscape of
yesterday.
Now I’ll search for love and death in the throws
of a passion only a few could know
how to handle and revere for moments and milleniums
of joy and lust to come
Alone I walk across your heart with fear and desire
shining down like an oppresssive desert sun’s fire
burning into your minds eye blinding your thoughts
and silencing your screams as you expire
But death and orgasms are easy for the fool
it’s patience that make me smile and you drool
at the fear of love as a measured death
awaiting one last stroke of the assasins tool
So beware, we are watching with peircing eyes
putting words in your mouth that pry
open your worst fears and reach into the depths
of your soul and grasp your deepest desires
Alone
I search your soul
from a distant outcrop
watching fear from above
and the fire below that burns bright
in a quivering voicet
frozen silent
by us
SO say it’s ego trippin’ you want? I’ll give it a go
but once I get started don’t call me no hoe
hot rocks and massage and strokin’ the words
I put fools into the ground with my flow, now ya heard
don’t need no new panties or underwire you see
my tongue starts this dialogue my words are set free
to stylize and mesmerize and capsize ear buds
believe what you listen to cuz these rips ain’t no duds
I be gyratin’ the verbiage and humpin’ the nouns
Best believe all my antics are saved for the clowns
Who sit open-mouthed and shocked and can’t utter a sound
Except damn, you go sistah, with the flow you done found
‘bout the money and dope game and jobs disappearin’
For the children and mamas and daddys who’s hearin’
My words full of truth and I keep spillin’ raw game
Best listen up and get with it before you’re too lame
To rhyme right beside me ALL our egos hand-in-hand
Our multitude of words will rule this great land
Ego trippin’ …
you ride em low and you ride em high
the words you be spittin just hitting your thigh
like jeans three sizes too big you can’t fill your britches
thinking you’re some “gonna-be” ~ collecting some riches
news flash: you gotta dash because of diaper rash
A & D can’t help you get rid of the inflammation
there’s no cure for your disease no other medication
so you just sit and marinate in it, your assness is showing
step away from me Stewie your brashness is growing
too blind to see clearly too foolish to tie your shoe
I look at you and all I can see is Mr. Magoo
just tripping along Droopy Draws saggin way down
adjust yourself homie, your new tag: Bozo the Clown.
i’m sitting here worried about my next dollar
the credit card company called said give them a holler
ain’t got no more duckets to pay all these bills
and whoops … there I go … right over the hill
SO JUST FUCK IT
this school mess has got my poor head a-reelin’
i’m keyed up and jazzed up ~ pull me off of the ceiling
this ol brain of mine is all ready to snap
and just where is that freakin’ smart thinking cap??
SO JUST FUCK IT!
and that dude that’s my ex he won’t leave me alone
he needs to move on and go the fuck home
and stop stalking me and my moves he’s like my damn shadow
before I kick his ass royal ~ man don’t he know?
SO JUST FUCK IT!
i’ll snap on his booty and put him to shame
bust both of his legs ~ make his dumb ass lame
don’t mess with this sistah ~ I move butterfly free
I’ll float up beside him and sting like a bee
SO JUST FUCK IT!
stress on my mind stress on my brain
it’s enough to drive a person insane
as hard as I try I can’t get ahead
inside of my soul I feel all the way dead
SO JUST FUCK IT
pass me the prozac and hand me some doobs
gone south for the winter hey where are my boobs?
i laugh when i’m sad and keep my head straight
hazing my mind a lot so I’m not stuck on hate
SO JUST FUCK IT!
ROXY
Men seem to think in-between thighs
As if what hides between is a surprise
And I’m fed up with the lines they throw my way
Hey ‘Lil Mama, listen to what I have to say
I got the magic stick and damaging licks
But really it nuts before it hits minute six
Baggy jeans showing draws
Sitting on the corner shouting cat calls
Eyeing my curves and craving attention
I don’t like beggars it’s below my expectations
Show me respect and I’ll do the same
Listen to what I’m about to proclaim
Wash your teeth, take a shower
Clean your opinions of women but take hours
Cause the ones you’ve been dealing with
Are hoes, sluts, and tricks
We’re about the mind; we’re not worried about your dick
MARSHA
Talk about the six minute man, baby girl, you’ve got it made
What about the one minute man without a serenade?
Says what he’s packing is fire and an all-out grenade
I say he’s sour ~ only good for squeezing lemonade
Yeah, I said it; he’s piss-poor and full of a masquerade
The hot air he’s been blowing he could have done HIMSELF proud
That is, if he knew how to do it with his head in the clouds
Cause he’s dreaming and scheming all about the creaming
Beaming and gleaming just waiting for the screaming
I say to men like this go back to preschool
Pull up a seat to the beat of Sex-Ed 101 and don’t be no fool
Know what pleases a woman is not all in her jeans
We want you to love our minds first and to be treated like queens
ROXY
Some men have been weaned from the breast
Unable to leave the nest
Use us as pillows for support and love
But what we get in return isn’t anything like the above
We fill with absence of your presence
As we come back to our senses
We walk on our wits
Unperturbed by your lil fits
Name calling shows nothing but insecurities
Grown man immaturities
Bitch, yea I’ll be that
I know you’ll regret it looking back
But there’s no taking back
You should’ve been wiser to look at the facts
See Marsha and I are women
We demand reverence from a true man
We don’t stay to be mistreated
We choose to be completed
Got no time for lil boys
Our personalities aren’t meant to be one of your toys.
MARSHA
Sorry fellas, we know that you aren’t all the same
Excuse us for lumping you in a box with the blame
My girl, Poetically Captured, and I are here to observe
How many men act and how they do not deserve
Our hearts, our minds, our bodies, our souls
Because women like us have set higher goals
Than to be treated like dirt and our names in the mud
Stop the flood, end bad blood, we’re not looking for some stud
The men that will woo us are lyrically strapped
They bestow the flow and naturally adapt
No name-calling, no mind-fucking, no bullshit encounter
Respect us, worship us, we’re your Frankincense and myrrh
Really
you can’t cut off our balls
and build up walls
based on hormones and pheremones
workin on your phone
we aint wakin up to that shit
flyin off the shoulder leavin us with the chip
that all them woman carry like a cross
at something they think is a loss
What about us with the bitch in heat
that rides mountains one minute
only to crowd a brother in the sheets
after her words are bold and character weak
Where is that wench that rides under the guise
of a loner only to text 7 times before the sun rises
‘where u at?” ” What u doin” “You mad @me?”
And don’t believe that “friends with benefits shit”
cause real real soon she’ll be havin a fit
cause you aint called or bothered to stop by
and all day long you wonder why
your even bothered to believe that line
when all along it was a hook she designed
but I ain’t mad, she isn’t every woman
just a mirror for the ones who don’t know
It’s ok to be alone and show
a brother a good time without a ring
cause it’s all good when the night is done
just remember when we say we’re done,
we’re done!!!!
I never thought I’ll be without you
I doubt you
Ever thought the same, but we doin it again
You and I in the past have always been friends
And I swore the day I met we be friends ‘til the end
Yeah,
I know there’s times when even I can stand you
Said I’ll walk away, well at least I thought I planned to
Damn I can’t stand you
Your grip on me is so tight
Every time your in my head
I got to get up and write
Your gonna get me fired, always interrupting my life
But I know if I didn’t have you, I’d still be searching for light
Really
You like the one think that motivates me to live
You even the reason that I think about having more kids
I want all of them to know you, and the things that I see
It glorious thing to have you, glad you stuck it out with me
I know everyone is proud to have ya,
You her, her names CREATIVITY!!
Now enter the path of Golden Arms, a UGL present’a
A deadly venom of a poet, ever since I bust out the placenta
A memba, represent’a of the psycho loco clan
Known to act a fool when I get a pen in my hand
I grip and I stand, lotus style, so I can create
Line for line, a master-verse that holds a lot of lyrical weight
I’m filling a plate, loading a bowl, see, the cups overflowing
A mind that never stop, ENERGIZER, keeps going and going
All seeing and knowing, Naw! Not talking about I
I’m talking about that great master poet that created the sky
He also created that guy, who create that thing
Which create the mean by which the poetry sings
I got a poetry fling, fling’n the words that are absurd yet they make sense
Gone back to the future so I can see I sound in the past tense!
I know that line makes no sense, but I been doing it since, my freestyles had scents
(THE SHIT)
And I’m gone for now til its time for track three
Golden Arms, Transform and roll out, its time for BP
Entranced by a dark reveille
Hypnotic melody
A scream,
Gasp for air,
A hellish delicacy
I relished in thee
Embellish me
Let your fears be my passion
Immortal wails of distraction
Formulate my erotic reaction
Of satisfaction.
I see your grieving
Delighted by the sight of your pain
I need you bleeding
I’m eating
From deaths plate
A rectification of deaths weight
That ponders on the shoulder of the living
I can’t wait
Fore the darkness leaves no room for your position
My heartless creed, is to have you missing,
My mission
An disposition
Is dark and dismal
Abysmal
Void from the light
As serrated blade slices
A piece of your life
An remove you from the light
Flames of agony shall unite
And a ravenous feast
Will be held on you
Just for spite………
Black is the night
that feels just write
like a blanket of isolation
wrapping my intentions
around visions of you, and I
missing the moment of why
with a blind eye closed
to enemies and foes
between us and paradise
and anyone who knows
I can’t be still
even if you will
trap who I am inside
so you can reside
with a man I don’t know
who will stage the show
you call life
at the point of a knife
stuck in my back
while I look ahead
with fear and dreaad
at being dead
or trapped
on the path you mapped
without listenin to my heart
beating out of time
with your rhyme
and reason screaming
and my thought bleeding
all over your dreams
of a me I don’t know
or care to explo
good-bye
Everyday we grunts,Foot Soldiers
Famine ridden with burden shoulders
Holders of pain humility and discrimination
a people without love at the cost of a nation
Expectations set with
Expirations met
Inspirationa needed
dignity kept
we the hidden talent
the street corner artist
and for a lil change
i will play my story hardest
regardless of broken strings
everynote played is an emotional thing
every word spoken is the pain i sing
lighting up the dark
GOD as my blig
DING…
My times up
waiting for round 2
keep yours heads up
Spittin out the barrel of a gun/ feelin like a pharaoh in the sun/ I don’t do the math, cuz all that matters is the sum/ so let’s get it done.. a revolution today/ start in the heart, then conquer the mind, so it won’t lead you astray/ yo, I’m kinda like, “fuck getting paid”/ and fuck being saved/ how’d that work out for the ones they enslaved?/ i just gotta look at the necks they done hanged… then the legs with them ankles in the chains/ same folk now told to go on stage an’ entertain/ and its all the same act, they just change up the names/… and i didn’t kno i was supposed go in like this/ listen closely, you can tell it aint begin like this/ 2012 already? nah, it cant end like this/ they attack.. i just defend like this:/ train the brain so the pen can write this/ don’t matter if you throwin a black or white fist/ who your wife is/ no matter what your tribe is.. gettin paid aint shit when you learn what is priceless//…fa’real
thelabpoetry 
One
By Dirty Cash
Okay, we’ll call this joint “One”
So bright, fingers point, like I’m the sun
I hit like guns, intended with no puns
See my mind is an uzi and it still weighs a ton
It’s Freestyle Friday who ready to flow wit me
I hold the controls that roll, bold and swiftly
UFO, my joints are unexplainable flying objects
I’m out of this world and no one can stop it
Kissing moon and stars with my lead filled rocket
Cop it, I still drop it like asteroids, I rocks it
I’m hot when I pop it and I pops it [out] like sockets
Yep, that means I hit hard when I sock it
Came to earth to destroy every wack emcee
But since my birth, even they tried to laugh at me
So I turned the mic on and said this is how it has to be
So I smash and I trashed, and I crashed them until they asked for me
Still maybe I’m not respected, but I still check it
And when I turn the mic on, I’m know to bless it
Fucking over haters, I’m infected and their unprotected
Try as they may to move away, but still I’m connected
Flowing like its Friday, spitting my introspective
Going over highways, leaving everyone affected
It’s your boy Dirty Cash and I’m down with the collected
See we the Lyrical Assassins and we always perfected
September 23, 2011 at 4:34 pm
U B rippn it up, D. Always respected … remember that!
September 23, 2011 at 4:48 pm
Thanks Marsha!!! smiley face. 🙂
September 24, 2011 at 8:42 pm
Deep Hole
Got these conniving so called friends
Talkin friendly very nice
Payin flatterin flowery compliments
With reverence in their voice
Takin it all kinda wary,
Listenin kinda easy
Not sure of the sincerity
Sometin smellin sorta sleazy
Then a subtle hint or two
Droppin here and there
Urgent need of laptop
Desperation in the air
Got no money to live
No food or place to stay
No way to peddle talent
No work or weekly pay
Hints keep gettin stronger
Instinct now in full control
Delete and block is activated
Piece of shit flushed down deep hole
Frankie
September 24, 2011 at 9:37 am
Wow, Frankie, I felt that one. Deep.
David
September 24, 2011 at 4:47 pm
ain’t that something — just when u thought u found some nice people — who enjoyed what you do cause they write too…
loved it and connected ……<3 debby
September 24, 2011 at 9:16 pm
This piece is fully understood Frankie. I love it. It sad when people sincerity can be questioned and you can feel the vibes from them. You smashed it with this joint. Keep’em coming Frankie!
September 25, 2011 at 12:03 pm
lmao..who pissed u off!.. since I first met Frankie..I swear she stayed next to that delete button! ..good shit!!
September 25, 2011 at 4:04 pm
This man got so many dam names I almost asked who the hell was Dirty Cash lmao..smh… n e way nice drop!
September 24, 2011 at 3:06 pm
Thats because he’s a baaaaaad man. lol. Thanks for coming through Roxy, headache and all.
David
September 24, 2011 at 4:54 pm
I see u goin in Ciph. That was fiyah
September 24, 2011 at 7:38 pm
Dirty Cash,Lucky Lefty,the Black Raven
Multiple personalities bring psychopaths a safe haven
Misbehave’n, crave’n, lacerated lines that form a dynasty
D-Cipher, the front line, and behind him, it’s me
Black Phoenix, Golden Arms, and me Ema call me Emo
I flip crazy lines, with a G.I. Joe kungfu grip flow
Hold tighter than anyone you know, the nigga on the block like Dee Bo
I back street them boys who try to be nsync with my flows
Yeah, you we grow, I mean, grew since 2009
With cultivated a family and are words became sublime
Spit murder every line, we straight murderers with our minds
Lyrical Assassins at the top of the game, It’s our Time!
September 25, 2011 at 12:17 pm
I flip crazy lines, with a G.I. Joe kungfu grip flow…YES U DO!.. mi emos the bestest!
September 25, 2011 at 4:05 pm
That intro spit was on HIT, Black Phoenix! I’m diggn ya style!
September 23, 2011 at 4:45 pm
Yeah Phoenix, I agree with Marsha, great intro.
September 24, 2011 at 9:40 am
Frankie, much lovd and mad respect to you. I glad you liked it.
September 24, 2011 at 7:41 pm
Thank Marsha, can’t wait to see you rip.
September 24, 2011 at 7:39 pm
Two
By Dirty Cash
BP and me on this and we makes two
He said rock that shit until they hate you
I’m like “Yo, haters hate, so of course I can’t wait to…”
So I drop this thick, blowing out candles and cakes too
Flows ain’t nothing, but yo, that’s how they rate you
Catz be fronting, behind your back wanting to take you
It’s ain’t new, I’ve been dropping this since the age two
And I’ll still be dropping until I’m in my grave dude
Unstoppable with the pen that means I race through
Unknockable within, my soul is known to waist crews
I’m a lyrical homicidal maniac with suicidal tendencies
Killing everything and demolishing all of my enemies
I’m Tupac’ing it, riding slow, sipping on Hennessey
Dropping it, a little as I go, until someone is emptying me
We in a battle zone leaving scars and blasting chrome
It’s either go hard or you might be asked to go home
So, I’ll continue to grind this shit out, I’m bad to the bone
Getting in haters domes like if we had us some combs
Sit next to me, but realize, one thing, this is my throne
I’m contaminated, full blown, until my mind is gone
Who’s wanna plot with me and further my plight
Paper down, jot with me as we scheme to murder the write
Tonight’s the night…
September 23, 2011 at 5:25 pm
Excellent write Love these lines
‘Sit next to me, but realize, one thing, this is my throne
I’m contaminated, full blown, until my mind is gone
Who’s wanna plot with me and further my plight
Paper down, jot with me as we scheme to murder the write
Tonight’s the night…
September 24, 2011 at 9:39 am
Thanks, Frankie, I’m trying to kill the writes on this on.e
David
September 24, 2011 at 4:48 pm
hmmm I sense a new style becoming of you….
September 24, 2011 at 3:07 pm
I only wish I had style. Ha
David
September 24, 2011 at 4:56 pm
ok ok I see u in it to win it. Go Ciph
September 24, 2011 at 7:43 pm
I’m spiting flames, I might have to go back to the Fire Breather. Ha
September 24, 2011 at 8:43 pm
Tonight’s the night, that I come through
One plus ones equals an 100 assassin crew
We rhyme like two. do what we have too
It’s great minds, with great lines, come see what we do
This is Assassin Vice he’s Crockett and I’m Tubb
Armani flow type brothers snatch’n weak flows of streets like drugs
Poetry is our love, so we clearing it from all the bugs
Create’n a flow that’s psychorhymatistical, “BP, SAY WHAT”
WORD!, I say’n ish that ya vocab never heard
Told ya before I put the action in the verbs
I’m the “WO” int the words
I spit so the the blind can see,
And this is the freestylin weekend, so let see who following me
September 25, 2011 at 12:31 pm
Create’n a flow that’s psychorhymatistical, “BP, SAY WHAT”
WORD!, I say’n ish that ya vocab never heard ….
LMFAO.. i sho did say …BP SAY WHAT!!!!….
September 25, 2011 at 4:07 pm
Scrolls are set, ink’s on jet, sit back, relax cuz u ain’t seen nothing yet
my blue veins turn red as the ink flows outta me
tipped back my hat so I can see how far I burn u to the third degree
rhyme hating cats arch backs and throw hisses
tryn to run game, scratch pads but they pisses
and moans about how they’re destructive
I laugh, turn my back, let them marinate in my wetness conductive
no dry ink here fellas cuz I’m always creating
words getting fixed, twisted, rolled, continuous plaiting
like corn rows all set up like paths to the brain
you’ll be boiled and roasted with words driving u insane
in the membrane with hollow point echo
soon you’ll be seeing Joseph with raincoat and rainbow in techno
so pray to your maker he knows you are on your way out
get down on them knees, son, speak tongues, twist and shout
September 23, 2011 at 6:41 pm
Niiicely done Marsha. This one was off the hook, hold the phone.
David
September 23, 2011 at 6:56 pm
Love the Joseph and his amazing coat reference Marsha, I just luv how you always bring such in teresting lines to your writes the cat and his arched back is another great one. Well done!
September 24, 2011 at 9:43 am
oooo Marsha!!! lol..idk y but as i read this I pictured an OG Pachuco …nice pen!
September 24, 2011 at 3:11 pm
Oh Ish!¡ Marsha that was pure heat
September 24, 2011 at 7:44 pm
Mz. Marsha set the intro, you heard your end is near
So, Spsst! Come a lil closer let me whisper in your ear
Don’t fear, your ends here, the first lady has spoken
Like the phoenix tat she possess, the spirit will rise an not broken
You’ll be a token, of carnage set in front of gathering of your friends
Cause no one should die alone when its time to meet their end
Please put down the paper and pen, Assassins are here again
And our freestyles are razor sharp, cut’n deep beneath your skin
September 25, 2011 at 12:42 pm
rippn it BP!
September 27, 2011 at 11:10 pm
Three
By Dirty Cash
Looks like I’m breaking bad, I make them twist and shout
Flipping doubt, take them out, got them switching routes
Still freestyling, call this one “Three”, I’m still kicking out
Throat got so much saliva, never am I spitting droughts
Keep dropping it until I’m cotton mouth, I cough it out
Until wise men, wander the desert, lost with doubt
I spit blood from my soul, give me a second and I’ll hawk it out
This is hip hop, and live it like I walk with gout
Well know Assassin, my plight is documented in X files
I break jaws when I jot, yes, I’m quick to check smiles
For miles and miles, my flow is untamed and left wild
And you can’t tell me nothing, like I’m a deaf child
I roll with it, puff it up, smoke these cats and leave them blunted
Chased by police dogs, my style is American’s most hunted
Wanted, I flaunt it, like my slab was sideways and stunted
So damn addicted I had an intervention, I had to be confronted
But fuck it, I’ll be this way until I put the mic down
And if haters wanna play, best believe I might clown
Still I pick the bong up, because they told me to pipe down
So now I’m higher then a cloud and faster then a light sound
September 23, 2011 at 7:24 pm
oh snap ….. brb
September 23, 2011 at 7:27 pm
I spit blood from my soul, give me a second and I’ll hawk it out….KILLED IT
September 24, 2011 at 3:12 pm
Thanks for the support my sista in rhyme. Cant wait to read your joint.
David
September 24, 2011 at 4:57 pm
Ok, its a massacre, by master of debaters
Ha! Listen now and you can catch the joke later
This is three for all the haters, or so call poet relaters
I’m online, in real time, not memorex like all the fakers
I’m am a creator, great than, the most common denominator
Square root of Pi, bringing the math to the spoken word players
I’m spray ya, with flava, that you can savor, and taste
After ya full, you’ll be CHOPPED, your out this place
Assassins run’n a race, we far ahead of the game
Who want war with the L.A.B., freestyle with the fury of Flames!
September 25, 2011 at 12:58 pm
ur sucha supportive spirit emos!
September 25, 2011 at 4:11 pm
Audio…..
AUD—diiiiiii–ooooo
testing
for impressing
AUD –Aud–audiiiiiiiiiiiii-ooo
here we go..
mic’s ready to throw
free-style
getting it up
here we go —
oh yeah
i get psyched
minds running like a spigot
words turning wicked
wanna jam
playing my keyboard
like a baby grand
i be in command
of what goes out
and what comes in
what was and should have been
we wanna do a win/win..
oh yeah i’m psyching
the beat of my heart
pounds between my breast
playing drum-rolls
under my chest
jam time — now bounce
on the vibes
i be pouring down
like a storm of thunder
i be roaring my sounds
like a lightening bolt
striking you
fireing up your booty
clappin your hands
and shaking your azz
free-style– first class
i gots a diamond mic
a silver D-64
on top sits a eagle
raising his wings
soaring my phrases
loving the juice that i bring
like the grapes of tuscany
turning to fine wine
i’m gonna bust
the enemy
and do it with the best of me
oh yeah i’m psyching
playing my keyboard
like a baby grand
i be in command
of what goes out
and what comes in
what could
and should have been
we wanna do a win / win
here’s one for the cause
thanks for the applause
i leave with a curtsey.
and a wink—flirtsy
By Debby Frank Glennon
September 23, 2011 at 7:32 pm
Nicely done. Welcome to Freestyle Friday.
David
September 23, 2011 at 7:43 pm
thanks for the welcome —i love it here — everyone here seems to write so well—it’s my pleasure –!!!!
debby
September 24, 2011 at 2:13 pm
Hiya Debby, Love this one and these lines stood out to me
‘like the grapes of tuscany
turning to fine wine
i’m gonna bust
the enemy
and do it with the best of me’
September 24, 2011 at 9:45 am
thanx Frankie i seen a beautiful pic of the grapes of tuscany from a friend who was in italy last week— and they were gorgeous!!! delicious!!! you could practically taste the wine they would be making…..guess i couldnt get them out of my mind!!!
debby
September 24, 2011 at 2:15 pm
Do it with the best in me… yes indeed..
September 24, 2011 at 3:15 pm
Damn Debbie! I see you reppin hard in here. Get’em gyrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrl!¡
September 24, 2011 at 7:46 pm
thanx … just having a good time………….loving rhyme…………..and all the words inbetween —— sounds like my next one… do you hear any words in your dreams…………??? lol– thanks again……..debby
September 24, 2011 at 9:20 pm
four
By Dirty Cash
Leave them screwed and chopped, chopped
You knew I’d always keeps it hot, hot
This should have been named “Two” the way I drop, drop
Laugh it up, chuckle, chuckle, Ha, Ha
Lock and load; nothing I ever drop is average
I pops the code, for those who never had shit
This ain’t rock and roll, its hip hop and she’s a bad bitch
It’s like she lost her soul, but has a bliss hot like magic
Hops like a rabbit, looking for carrots and cabbage
See it’s tragic, if with all I gots, I ain’t living lavish
Catz be talking all that bass, but all I hear is static
So I stay in their face, there’s no way to mask it
See, I told you I was a fanatic, spitting flows like automatics
You can’t kill the beast, if you talk shit or stab it
I’m served on platters, deep fried with a batter
Making haters scatter, no teeth, so no chatter
Getting deep in brains, leaving stains like grey matter
Loony as fuck, going against the grain like the Madd Hatter
September 23, 2011 at 9:35 pm
lmao.. ur on a role!
September 24, 2011 at 3:16 pm
Ha, I wanted to see if anyone will write more joints then me. I’m still waiting. lol
David
September 24, 2011 at 4:58 pm
hell yeah!
September 25, 2011 at 2:44 am
Here I go leave’n em chopped and screwed, screwed
Serve on a plate like and entrée bland food, food
Served with white wine, I preferred if they were grilled, grilled
Golden arms on the freestyle, about to get ill, ill
Screw’d food grilled ill, show rhyme scheme spill skill
Poetic Holyfield, call me the real deal
I’m tasked with a duty to keep minds mentally sharp
Keep my Pandora box of poetry locked deep in my heart
Only to be released it when the soul flows through the fire in my ink
I am a phoenix, full of fiyah, what the fuck did ya think
I’m strategic make moves like the mystery of chess box’n
Writing to a tempo of my homie Dougie Fresh, beat box’n
The heat from me keep pop’n, the street for me keep rock’n
TOP OF THE WORLD MA! THE BLACK PHOENIX AINT STOP’N
September 25, 2011 at 1:22 pm
Keep my Pandora box of poetry locked deep in my heart- HOT SHIT!
September 25, 2011 at 4:15 pm
5ive
By Lucky Lefty
It’s the return of Lucky Lefty, burying catz chest deep
Don’t care if they detest me, as long as they respect me
Check me, I’m strong arming it with flows so messy
And I’m kicking out teeth on snitches who stay pesky
You don’t like me, then you can kiss my left cheek
Don’t draw on me, cause I’ve always been sketchy
Get me? I’m all about making ends with friends
Faithful to most, but I put and end to those who pretend
Shots go off from my pen, leave’em stiff like manikins
Fill them up with jelly that means I’m jamming them
I’ll break any lyrical levy, yep, I keep damning trends
And kill of any one of yous, who can’t stand to bend
This ain’t ganksta style, I’m causing “Havoc, like I’m mob deep
I’m a “Prodigy” so wild, I creep even when the blog reeks
Cutting off hands, bury them in Yonkers and chopping off feet
Leaving style nameless in the Hudson, so you can toss sheets
You know a made man keeps the code and we don’t speak
And I’m just like my money, I can’t and I won’t sleep
September 23, 2011 at 10:40 pm
‘Cutting off hands, bury them in Yonkers and chopping off feet’ WOW! these are fighting words, Brilliant INK here
September 24, 2011 at 9:53 am
Just tried to get a lil Tony Soprano on this one. lol
david
September 24, 2011 at 4:50 pm
Agreein wit Frankie…someone needs a hug today lol
September 24, 2011 at 3:18 pm
Just give me some free chips another drink and a free room, and i promise i’ll come down. Hee hee
September 24, 2011 at 4:59 pm
hotta dayummmm! ur full of killer lines. unfukinbelieveable …..
September 25, 2011 at 2:51 am
Ok Gangsta, i see u go’n hard ass hell. You droppin n album on here
September 26, 2011 at 4:52 pm
Might as well, that was # 10. ha. I need just a couple more and a hidden track and I’ll be on my way.
D
September 26, 2011 at 8:35 pm
love the flow, but know the currents can sweep you under the undertow.
Know life is precious. but the second you leap you can fall from another blow.
speechless. under no circumstance will i ever be a numbered soul
The days are long, the slumbers slow. i wonder though
how lighthing strikes but thunder glows.
The small things will get you killed but only me and them hunters know.
love is like finding a needle in haystack. Something so brilliant will leave
you and your past dazed as you attempt to go way back.
Love is near so find the nearest exit and stay back.
The things you find so precious about love. Well i hate that.
But i need it. I find it such a pearl . If you cant find it then, be it.
Most of the time it’s blind so Love can’t see it….
Break the chains , free it. . You can break my legs but i’ll knee it.
I’ma love until my art is dead. love is the reason that my heart is red.
My art is love. my love is art. Without the two i’ll have no heart. ..
ehhh trying to get in the freestyle groove aint workin popz!!!
September 24, 2011 at 12:52 am
‘Most of the time its blind, so love can’t see’ Absolutely love this one Mike. Well done
September 24, 2011 at 9:49 am
thanks!!
September 24, 2011 at 6:06 pm
ain’t working my ass…lol.. that was ill!!!!!!!!!!!
September 24, 2011 at 3:19 pm
HEY thank you roxy! i thought it could have been longer though lol! 🙂
September 24, 2011 at 6:07 pm
Pk, I see you not all pyschopath Mike… I am feeling this joint
September 27, 2011 at 11:13 am
I hear the bitch with her puppies barkin
at scraps and fear
of the trail I’m marking
I’ll cut the tails from between your legs
and howl at your voice
as it bleeds from iron pegs
hammered into “Red Dirt” and bile
staining each link in your tether
green and red with quivering fear
And there you lie, belly up
submissive to any sound
that means escape, a place to run,
from the pain of silence, afraid to speak
or think of thoughts that rhyme
You have a master within you
gett off your haunches
and stand proud of true
I hear the bitch with her pupiies barkin
at scraps and fear
of the trail I’m markin
September 24, 2011 at 1:49 am
Very interesting and dark write. Welcome to the LAB
David
September 24, 2011 at 6:27 am
Thank you for the time and space!!!!
September 25, 2011 at 2:29 am
OH! that dog and her pups kept flooding my mind. This is a very deep write. Well done Red Dirt
September 24, 2011 at 9:48 am
whew..ok…yea lol..
September 24, 2011 at 3:20 pm
Pretty vivid.. niiiiiiiiice!
September 24, 2011 at 6:07 pm
Mike, Mike, Mike! Thanks for being my guide on this one, every good assasin needs a spotter!
September 25, 2011 at 2:31 am
Welcome to the UGL Red Dirt…
September 27, 2011 at 11:14 am
6ix
This is for Michael, sometimes love is a quick fix
Most of the time, its diarrhea, see, its sick shit
All compromise and trust me, I have lived this
Hearts broken, the art of love is filled with mischief
And I am always a misfit who believes its all kismet
Love makes the heart flutter and it makes me fidget
My thoughts stutter, I’m left open like slit wrists
Constantly hoping, she gets me and she gets it
But even if she does, things always seem to change
The bonds that held you, fall apart like broken chains
I know this sounds cynical, but love is a hopeless game
But I am in love with love, so that means at times I choke with pain
And it’s only when you get wet, that you know its rain
My heart burns to the point that I’m forced to soak in flames
Love is abstract art, different to everyone who looks at it
But I’ll cut off an ear for it to hear me or at least take a stab at it
I’m a hopeless romantic; it’s a drug and I’m such a bad addict
Looking for that quick fix, cause if even for a moment, I’m glad to have it
September 24, 2011 at 8:25 am
‘But I’ll cut off an ear for it to hear me or at least take a stab at it’
Awesome INK. Love this one.
September 24, 2011 at 9:51 am
Hey that was my fav line in that joint too.
David
September 24, 2011 at 4:49 pm
damn….yep my fav outa the 6!
September 24, 2011 at 3:22 pm
Is it because i brought love into and your a hopeless romantic? hmmm
David
September 24, 2011 at 5:00 pm
lmao.. noo!!!!..smh.. and y cant i reply to ur comment? y i gota go all up here!/..horrible
September 24, 2011 at 5:34 pm
God darnit, D-Cipher, you use your tongue prettier than a twenty dollar whore. LOL.. Sorry I had to use that line.. I was Watching blazing saddles while I read this…lol
September 27, 2011 at 11:19 am
a free weekend
Uh Muahzz I Love This
Ruged And Raw SH*T
Never Let No One
Tell You Something
That Can Not Do
When Know In Your Heart
You Can Do It,
F*ck a Dream Killer
The Bigger The Thoughts
Is Bigger The Mind
THe Bigger The Star
Is Bigger The Shine,
F*Ck A Dream Killer
Uh A Dead Poet
They Seen Me
In My Last Free Balance
That Funeral And Wake ShIt
They Said A Dream Was Pronounce
Dead At
The Murder Scene,
Check The Paulse
Of A Real Negro
Alive Dream,
Faster The Car
is The Bigger Drive,
Either Its All In A Small Pen
Or Its All In A Big Voice
No He Didnt
Say This No
He Didnt Write That,
I’m Liable To Enjoy
The Budle Of Joy
I’m Liable To Snap
Say F*Ck It All
And Then Get Into
Bundle Of Broken Trouble,
I Controle The Free
I Controle Me….
September 24, 2011 at 3:02 pm
I’m liable to snap…lmao.. story of my life.
September 24, 2011 at 3:23 pm
Wow, too many great line in this joint Bel. Really feeling this. “Faster The Car is The Bigger Drive, Either Its All In A Small Pen or Its All In A Big Voice”. Niiiiiice.
David
September 24, 2011 at 4:53 pm
very well written 😀
September 24, 2011 at 6:09 pm
Absolutely love the positivity here. Agree so much, so many fuckin wet blankets in the world, never let them cramp U’r style. Love this INK
September 24, 2011 at 11:51 pm
YEZZIR BEL ROC, ROCKED IT IN HERE !
September 27, 2011 at 11:20 am
My emos!!! ur piece was visual! i dig!
September 24, 2011 at 3:25 pm
I’m abrasive Call me Sybil in her dire stages
My pen carries different faces..I meant phases
Either way I HATE them all so fuck it I’m a racist
I’m beyond offensive
I ride borderlines like they do my bloodline on fences
And snatch their spines so I can hang their blind eyes onto picket signs
While I explode worse than Iraq and gasoline combined
I ate so much reality I’m dealing with obesity
Tried to give it back but got bulimia and questioned as a conspiracy
But I showed my ass and drained diarrhea on their publicity
So unsettled..unraveled and untitled ..fuck it I never had a placement
And scientists still think I came from an ape getting pregnant
They must’ve hit their heads when the blast hit the pavement
Or maybe I did? that would explain my derangement
But then again my brain and I never had an engagement
It kept leaving me for the growing polygamy
Now I sit with the rest of society fucking myself for monogamy
So I don’t understand why they keep wanting to keep me in therapy
When I’m finally using their only means 2 stay sane as a remedy!
September 24, 2011 at 5:29 pm
Fucking A, that was hot. Let me sharpen my pencil again. Damn. Damn. DAAAAMN
September 24, 2011 at 5:58 pm
Wow… this was dope!
September 24, 2011 at 6:09 pm
WOW! Now, this is some straight talking INK. Tried to pick out my fav line, but if I do, I have to pick out the entire poem. Absolutely fanfuckintastic INK
September 24, 2011 at 11:56 pm
Ooooo Roxy …. whew girlfriend …. WHAT??!! THE HELL??!! pinch me cuz i’m dreamin like crazy Ooo weee ….
September 26, 2011 at 5:23 am
OH SHIZZNIT!! EMA Making me step my pen game up….GO EMA GO!!!
September 27, 2011 at 11:21 am
A Quicky………..By Debby Frank Glennon
i didn’t know i was suppose to keep it going-
just jumped in without questions
guess i learned a lesson
now getting ready to make a mess in
this lab i am a guess in
shaking it up
on opening
now watch it exploding
blasting it’s bubbles
all over this room …
sudsing it sticky
icky gooey
how’s this one for a quicky……
lets hear it for the quicky
I leave with a curtsey
a wink , flirtsy……………………………………..
September 24, 2011 at 5:32 pm
Ohh, Deb, you aint a guest…. Your family. Nowww let me borrow fifty bucks. lol. Great write.
David
September 24, 2011 at 5:59 pm
lol smh @ david’s response…. and nice pen Deb!!!
September 25, 2011 at 4:20 pm
Yeah… your family…. can I borrow the rake…LOL… HOT ISH DEBBY!!
September 27, 2011 at 11:22 am
@ David.. fav line is And it’s only when you get wet that you know its rain… <–deeeeeep .. whole thing was hot.. need to make that a collab!
September 24, 2011 at 6:03 pm
Thanks mike, actually, I wrote that line for you. I knew you’d like it when I wrote it.
Dad
September 24, 2011 at 8:46 pm
Wooooooow……I needed all these reads today….even though I missed it yesterday…..This was an awesome post….everyone did wonderful….Marsha I looooooooovvvee when you let that pen out the bag…….Here we go gang….
FREESTYLE
It’s been a while since I let my pen bleed metaphorically
So bow down to the crown and get down with my floetry
My mind tripping cuz I been slipping on some real life ish
No time for foolishness, eliminating all
fakeness
lifeless
childish
and corruptible ways
New lessons no stressing bettering myself like school days
Don’t get upset when I press eject cuz your rhythm I’m not feeling
Inhale to exhale to prepare you for my venom that I’m spitting
I’ve captured your mind in time
and kidnapped your hypothalamus
Sending signals to your organs, your aorta I’m bout to bust
Nervous system on crash, equilibrium descending
Your lungs have collapsed on you there’s no depending
Your time is up, maxed out, with no reconciliation
My intellect can’t stress on your self-indulgent behavior
You lost me to everything incapable of loving you back
Can’t live life through the sensations of your ball sac
Now I’m on a different job and the CEO is ME
My office is ran by a higher power
And He’s filled all of my vacancies
This QUEENDOM is closed….
September 24, 2011 at 6:31 pm
Nicely done. I think your wide open. I love it. Actually, it started on Friday, but it’s open all week.
Feel free to let your pen bleed more masterpieces.
David
September 24, 2011 at 8:35 pm
Thanks David
September 24, 2011 at 10:26 pm
OMG! What a POWERFUL write. ‘I am woman hear me roar’ comes to mind, Love these lines, ‘Can’t live life through the sensations of your ball sac
Now I’m on a different job and the CEO is ME’ but, the entire write was just mind boggling.
‘
September 25, 2011 at 12:00 am
WHAT!!!… mannnnn I started off highlightin then it went berserk and i highlighted the whole dam piece lol… good shit mz Queen!
September 25, 2011 at 4:33 pm
DAMN DAMN DAMN!! ALL HOTNESS WHEN YOU DROPPED THIS!!!
September 27, 2011 at 11:24 am
i thank yall for reading and i really enjoyed everyone freestyle friday great poets… and thanks david for freestyle i needed that bro real talk..
September 24, 2011 at 7:39 pm
Ive wasted ink on plastered thought
The words I fought were worth the lost
At any cost
They crossed freedom of spiritual reality
It hurts to say words as such would ever come out of me
HONESTLY!
I promised me
In totality,
Never to spit hate.
Can you relate?
A words dynasty
Can be confined in me
If I use it as a weapon an not to create!
EXAMPLE
Fuck the spics, crackers, niggas and terrorist
Raghead, gooks, and chinks, I know they scared of this
Porch monkeys, hoodlums, crackheads running free
Theses are the destructive words the youth will come to see
Words of wasted talent shown anger by man
Was not the reason poetry was placed in our hands
September 24, 2011 at 8:11 pm
Bravo, BP, bravo. I love your word usage. Very original and creative.
David
September 24, 2011 at 8:32 pm
Thank ya Kindly sir….
September 27, 2011 at 11:25 am
whoa dude you are making us be responsible to do what is right as poets… and sometimes i really do like to do the wrong thing –jk.. loved this..debby
September 24, 2011 at 9:26 pm
YOU Know a NUKKA Gotta do What a NUkka Got to do..LOL… Thanks Deb
September 27, 2011 at 11:26 am
Very wise words here Phoenix, I hate ‘poetry’ being used as a means of spewing hatred. Great INK
September 25, 2011 at 12:15 am
Thanks much Frankie… You know as well as I do We as poets came a long way from that crap… May we never revisit it again…
September 27, 2011 at 11:27 am
Words of wasted talent shown anger by man
Was not the reason poetry was placed in our hands- … hold on im still digesting..
September 25, 2011 at 4:35 pm
LOL… Food for thought mme hermana
September 27, 2011 at 11:28 am
7even
By David Cardenas
Ain’t nothing free, not even the ink in my pen
I lift my hands to the Lord, but I feel it from within
Covered in sin; where shall I begin
Where does it go and when will it all end
Life spins, but I’m here at a standstill
Being dumped on by societies landfill
Poison crammed in my brain and I can’t keep my hands still
I’m open to what ever, so now they say this mans ill
I hold a hand full of pills and broken dreams
Red, pink, blue, all spill along with purple and green
Red was for my heart that burst at the seems
Pink was for my tender insides that hurt by all means
Blue was for my soul; the light no longer beams
Purple was for my mind when it tried to scream
And green, green was for just holding back my schemes
I swallow them down to kill the demonic fiends
As I floated higher…for a moment I touched heaven
Angelic whispers in my ear remind me that this is write number 7
But it was over taken by the devils tone in my head that deafened
And wait, weight…I fell faster then lead, through various sections
Then…
Static… cartoons… mathematical equations… birth
My wings burned and I crashed back to the earth
Staring in the mirror to catch my self worth
Stranded in this paddle cell, with only myself to hurt
September 24, 2011 at 8:30 pm
its impossible to have a Fav with u….fukin impossible… wait no i remember this one piece u did for ur daughter and its still outweighs all … nevertheless… u rocked this piece even with all its emotions flying in different directions
September 25, 2011 at 4:38 pm
Awww, thanks Roxy. Anything concerning my kids is a good thing.
D
September 25, 2011 at 8:09 pm
OK, Now I need you to do a bonus track and a rmix featuring Biz Markie on this one..lol.. Great shyt Ciph
September 27, 2011 at 11:29 am
Settle-ing Inn………………………..By Debby Frank Glennon
i dont want to ever get out of here…
this is where i ruffle my feathers
and do whatever i dare…
i shine my boot soles..
and liven up my own sole (soul)
i tip my hat
and nod my head
with that hello is what i said…
friends nourish
ships flourish (friendships)
i always encourage …
the lost
i always acknowledge
the dead
i pray for our heros….
…
and i cry for their mothers…
the fathers always blame themselves
and stock bottles upon their shelves
to keep them liquidfied
to act dignified
every now and then slap their wives..
they slap their wives right on the ass.
and yeah you know right where that ends up!!
3 guesses you can’t lose
couch — floor—- table
let’s have a nother shot of that booze…
now you better save them dar cans-
cause
i’ll tell the junk man on you
and he’ll be sure to ride your street
and park his vehicle
in front of your house…….
everynight…
give you somebody to pick on…
whoa lots of fun….
like I said
I don’t ever want to get outta here
here’s a curtsey
and a wink — flirtsy………………………Debby Frank Glennon
September 24, 2011 at 9:24 pm
Brilliant INK Debby
September 25, 2011 at 12:33 am
nice!
September 25, 2011 at 4:40 pm
Amazing
September 27, 2011 at 11:29 am
good job David and Debby….
September 24, 2011 at 10:29 pm
Thanks, I appreciate it.
DAvid
September 24, 2011 at 11:50 pm
thanx…… just havin fun…..yours is explicit…. debby
September 25, 2011 at 12:02 am
Unpacking………………………….By Debby Frank Glennon
i got my luggage
leaving it on your doorstep
take my baggage
to the guest room??
well now that you say what??
I’m no longer a guest here??
what i gots to pay for my beer?
now they wannna call me family
if thats what you think
inside my suitcase
got me 12 bottles of mace
aiming at your face
and i never lend money to fam—-ily
fifty bucks
be buying me breakfast, lunch, and
promising me no sobriety
a dreamless night
induced by notararity
unpacking my bags..
planning to hang
where words
kill like swords
where guns
blast thru puns
where bullets fly
and no one dies…
and everybody goes home tonight…………………………..By Debby Frank Glennon
September 24, 2011 at 10:44 pm
Loved the baggae, luggage, and guest room line, excellent weaving!
September 25, 2011 at 2:21 am
I love how you ripped this
September 27, 2011 at 12:51 pm
All Moved In………………………………By Debby Glennon
my bags are empty
i’m ready to sleep
closing the eyes
stopping the visions
sounds
everything around…
good night all poets
good night all friends
good-nite to my rivals …
good- nite to my fans….
if you know the lines
repeat after me…if not — good- nite……..By Debby Frank Glennon….
September 25, 2011 at 12:14 am
hittn back to Dirty Cash ….
Faster than the speed of sound,
Dirty Cash hits the ground
running with words
making all the rebounds
He’s the dealer, the peeler,
a lyrical wheeler
spitting venom every second
with perfect bravado
making time like there’s no stopping him,
Mr. Movado
Alarm set to chime
when lames come to rip snort
Dirty Cash … armed and ready
treatin them wannabees like a genital wart
September 25, 2011 at 1:58 am
dying laughin at the “treatin them wannabees like a genital wart” .. WHAT! lmfao!
September 25, 2011 at 4:42 pm
yep yep! 🙂
September 26, 2011 at 5:53 am
Ok I see the First Lady is on the move… Go Marsha
September 27, 2011 at 12:52 pm
yall on fiyah…..
September 25, 2011 at 3:45 am
10en
By Dirty Cash
Warts, syphilis, even herpes and scabies
I’m infecting all wannabies with lyrical rabies
Foaming at the mouth; taking bites off of their poetic babies
Until I’m lock jawed or at least until they taz me
Shocking, but my every jot is shifty and shady
Marsha should have warned you that I was simply crazy
Puffing on that purple stuff until my every thought is hazy
High on Crush, I bust stupid shit until everyone hates me
I’m addicted to the flow; I’m like whoa, please take me
And I’ve been rocking rhymes ever since the early eighties
Offending dudes, ladies, and even poetic masters
It’s a disaster because my hands are slow but my flow is faster
So I keep trying to play catch up, I mean catcher
Every rhyme that comes in gets disposed like I’m a body snatcher
It all gets deciphered and chopped up from the lyrical hacker
No cameras or directors; I’ve never been an actor
Yes, it’s the word professor, glowing like a nuclear reactor
The verb smasher, rolling over catz with a metaphorical tractor
Love me or hate me, but believe me, I have always been a factor
And when the world comes to an end, I’ll be writing the day after
September 26, 2011 at 4:00 am
dayummmmm brb …
September 26, 2011 at 5:27 am
UM… Do I need a condom to read this…lol OH! Too late..lol
September 27, 2011 at 12:52 pm
8ight
By Dirty Cash
It’s the return of the heavy weights
Flow like Katrina watch how the levies break
Drowning haters at such a steady rate
Wait…class in session, don’t test your fate
BP and me, we the dynamic duo, but fuck it we both batman
Get it straight, dirty mouth spittas who belong in a trash can
No grouch, tell Oscar we leaving more holes in catz like an afghan
We’re unbreakable shattering jaws on every glass man
Flash in a pan, lightning in a bottle, ha, or just a kill in time
Choke the throttle that would be us if lightning strikes a billion times
Feel my mind? Bloody knuckles – I’m still on the grind
With so many chuckles, that’s me just killing these lines
Drinking the Kool-Aid; Hey Jim, do you have any crackers with this
It just a fools fate, wake up… I seen to many slackers just quit
Microphone empty, stay asleep; I’ll attack it and spit
And rip some of the most vile shit that a bastard can spit
This is number 8, the buffet open stack up your plate
Fill it up high, life is great and the diet will have to wait
September 25, 2011 at 1:42 pm
Microphone empty, stay asleep; I’ll attack it and spit
And rip some of the most vile shit that a bastard can spit…MMM mmm MMM..
September 25, 2011 at 4:45 pm
Thanks Roxy. I’m on the block grinding…
D
September 25, 2011 at 8:08 pm
9ine
By Black Raven
It’s the Black Raven, darker then the mind of Wes Craven
Lyrical switch blading, knives grind, shining on the throats of dead maidens
Gutting rhymes, dissecting verses; every noun and verbs I’m filleting
Licking the blade, slicing tongues with no delaying
I’m crawling under skin, misbehaving – extraterrestrial
Making women cringe; flowing more then a monthly menstrual
Back strokes, I lack jokes so I’m swimming in a dead pool
Surrounded by creepy crawly critters until my heads full
Sleeping on 9 inch nines, for lunch I dine in hell
Stabbing the beast with a side dish of swine and snails
I’m inclined to bail, see I got a mind to fail
So I drag three dead bodies with me, I might as well
Back hand the devil, leave him pummeled and leveled
Grab my shovel and advance to another level
I don’t even write anymore, I’m carving it in the back of head
Lay them face down on the floor, so I can see what I last said
September 25, 2011 at 7:36 pm
fukn AAAAAAAAAAAAAA ! sizzle and spit hot!
September 26, 2011 at 4:08 pm
Thanks Marsha, I love freestyling.
David
September 26, 2011 at 8:35 pm
Silent
The assasins
mind is a dangerous
tool sharper than any weapon
in a fools arsenal
more powerful
than peace
Searching eyes scorch the landscape
of a desert valley littered with bones
without flesh, like words without meaning
the pulse lost in time and rythyms are memories
for romantics and fools long buried in dust
The sound of the screeching hawk soars
on thermal twists of fate as the assasin
gazes undistracted at possibilities and horizons
glowing orange and melting into tomorrow, “It’s my time.”
He thinks as darkness rises from the parched landscape of
yesterday.
Now I’ll search for love and death in the throws
of a passion only a few could know
how to handle and revere for moments and milleniums
of joy and lust to come
Alone I walk across your heart with fear and desire
shining down like an oppresssive desert sun’s fire
burning into your minds eye blinding your thoughts
and silencing your screams as you expire
But death and orgasms are easy for the fool
it’s patience that make me smile and you drool
at the fear of love as a measured death
awaiting one last stroke of the assasins tool
So beware, we are watching with peircing eyes
putting words in your mouth that pry
open your worst fears and reach into the depths
of your soul and grasp your deepest desires
Alone
I search your soul
from a distant outcrop
watching fear from above
and the fire below that burns bright
in a quivering voicet
frozen silent
by us
September 26, 2011 at 3:49 am
Very deep. I love the imagery on this one. It screams at me.
David
September 26, 2011 at 3:58 am
Thanks David, really enjoyin the posts. The pace is awsome, I’ll be an apprentice till I can run with the big dogs!!!!
September 26, 2011 at 2:05 pm
excellent pen and visual tapestry!
September 26, 2011 at 4:11 pm
Love the visual picture you displeyed here red Dirt!!
September 27, 2011 at 12:53 pm
Flippin It and Ego Trippin’ It
SO say it’s ego trippin’ you want? I’ll give it a go
but once I get started don’t call me no hoe
hot rocks and massage and strokin’ the words
I put fools into the ground with my flow, now ya heard
don’t need no new panties or underwire you see
my tongue starts this dialogue my words are set free
to stylize and mesmerize and capsize ear buds
believe what you listen to cuz these rips ain’t no duds
I be gyratin’ the verbiage and humpin’ the nouns
Best believe all my antics are saved for the clowns
Who sit open-mouthed and shocked and can’t utter a sound
Except damn, you go sistah, with the flow you done found
‘bout the money and dope game and jobs disappearin’
For the children and mamas and daddys who’s hearin’
My words full of truth and I keep spillin’ raw game
Best listen up and get with it before you’re too lame
To rhyme right beside me ALL our egos hand-in-hand
Our multitude of words will rule this great land
Ego trippin’ …
September 26, 2011 at 5:42 am
Diggin the bravado…
September 26, 2011 at 6:18 am
don’t need no new panties or underwire you see
my tongue starts this dialogue my words are set free – OH WOW MARSH!.. You goin in on ’em
September 27, 2011 at 12:54 pm
you ride em low and you ride em high
the words you be spittin just hitting your thigh
like jeans three sizes too big you can’t fill your britches
thinking you’re some “gonna-be” ~ collecting some riches
news flash: you gotta dash because of diaper rash
A & D can’t help you get rid of the inflammation
there’s no cure for your disease no other medication
so you just sit and marinate in it, your assness is showing
step away from me Stewie your brashness is growing
too blind to see clearly too foolish to tie your shoe
I look at you and all I can see is Mr. Magoo
just tripping along Droopy Draws saggin way down
adjust yourself homie, your new tag: Bozo the Clown.
(for all those wannabees …. LOL)
September 26, 2011 at 5:45 am
Lol, love the word play on this one Marsha.
David
September 26, 2011 at 6:19 am
okay okay …
i’m sitting here worried about my next dollar
the credit card company called said give them a holler
ain’t got no more duckets to pay all these bills
and whoops … there I go … right over the hill
SO JUST FUCK IT
this school mess has got my poor head a-reelin’
i’m keyed up and jazzed up ~ pull me off of the ceiling
this ol brain of mine is all ready to snap
and just where is that freakin’ smart thinking cap??
SO JUST FUCK IT!
and that dude that’s my ex he won’t leave me alone
he needs to move on and go the fuck home
and stop stalking me and my moves he’s like my damn shadow
before I kick his ass royal ~ man don’t he know?
SO JUST FUCK IT!
i’ll snap on his booty and put him to shame
bust both of his legs ~ make his dumb ass lame
don’t mess with this sistah ~ I move butterfly free
I’ll float up beside him and sting like a bee
SO JUST FUCK IT!
stress on my mind stress on my brain
it’s enough to drive a person insane
as hard as I try I can’t get ahead
inside of my soul I feel all the way dead
SO JUST FUCK IT
pass me the prozac and hand me some doobs
gone south for the winter hey where are my boobs?
i laugh when i’m sad and keep my head straight
hazing my mind a lot so I’m not stuck on hate
SO JUST FUCK IT!
(unvaulted)
September 26, 2011 at 5:55 am
Wow, I’m really diggin the style of this one, Marsha. I’d say more about it… but Just Fuck it.. lol
Great write.
David
September 26, 2011 at 6:20 am
LMMFAO
September 26, 2011 at 6:28 am
ROXY …. I’M PULLIN ONE OUTTA THE HAT
ROXY
Men seem to think in-between thighs
As if what hides between is a surprise
And I’m fed up with the lines they throw my way
Hey ‘Lil Mama, listen to what I have to say
I got the magic stick and damaging licks
But really it nuts before it hits minute six
Baggy jeans showing draws
Sitting on the corner shouting cat calls
Eyeing my curves and craving attention
I don’t like beggars it’s below my expectations
Show me respect and I’ll do the same
Listen to what I’m about to proclaim
Wash your teeth, take a shower
Clean your opinions of women but take hours
Cause the ones you’ve been dealing with
Are hoes, sluts, and tricks
We’re about the mind; we’re not worried about your dick
MARSHA
Talk about the six minute man, baby girl, you’ve got it made
What about the one minute man without a serenade?
Says what he’s packing is fire and an all-out grenade
I say he’s sour ~ only good for squeezing lemonade
Yeah, I said it; he’s piss-poor and full of a masquerade
The hot air he’s been blowing he could have done HIMSELF proud
That is, if he knew how to do it with his head in the clouds
Cause he’s dreaming and scheming all about the creaming
Beaming and gleaming just waiting for the screaming
I say to men like this go back to preschool
Pull up a seat to the beat of Sex-Ed 101 and don’t be no fool
Know what pleases a woman is not all in her jeans
We want you to love our minds first and to be treated like queens
ROXY
Some men have been weaned from the breast
Unable to leave the nest
Use us as pillows for support and love
But what we get in return isn’t anything like the above
We fill with absence of your presence
As we come back to our senses
We walk on our wits
Unperturbed by your lil fits
Name calling shows nothing but insecurities
Grown man immaturities
Bitch, yea I’ll be that
I know you’ll regret it looking back
But there’s no taking back
You should’ve been wiser to look at the facts
See Marsha and I are women
We demand reverence from a true man
We don’t stay to be mistreated
We choose to be completed
Got no time for lil boys
Our personalities aren’t meant to be one of your toys.
MARSHA
Sorry fellas, we know that you aren’t all the same
Excuse us for lumping you in a box with the blame
My girl, Poetically Captured, and I are here to observe
How many men act and how they do not deserve
Our hearts, our minds, our bodies, our souls
Because women like us have set higher goals
Than to be treated like dirt and our names in the mud
Stop the flood, end bad blood, we’re not looking for some stud
The men that will woo us are lyrically strapped
They bestow the flow and naturally adapt
No name-calling, no mind-fucking, no bullshit encounter
Respect us, worship us, we’re your Frankincense and myrrh
© 27march2009 ~ A Poetically Captured and Mz. Marsha collab
September 26, 2011 at 6:02 am
Yes, yes, yeeees, I love the back and forth on this one.
David
September 26, 2011 at 6:22 am
🙂 THANKS dAVID
September 26, 2011 at 6:29 am
Really
you can’t cut off our balls
and build up walls
based on hormones and pheremones
workin on your phone
we aint wakin up to that shit
flyin off the shoulder leavin us with the chip
that all them woman carry like a cross
at something they think is a loss
What about us with the bitch in heat
that rides mountains one minute
only to crowd a brother in the sheets
after her words are bold and character weak
Where is that wench that rides under the guise
of a loner only to text 7 times before the sun rises
‘where u at?” ” What u doin” “You mad @me?”
And don’t believe that “friends with benefits shit”
cause real real soon she’ll be havin a fit
cause you aint called or bothered to stop by
and all day long you wonder why
your even bothered to believe that line
when all along it was a hook she designed
but I ain’t mad, she isn’t every woman
just a mirror for the ones who don’t know
It’s ok to be alone and show
a brother a good time without a ring
cause it’s all good when the night is done
just remember when we say we’re done,
we’re done!!!!
Love ya!!!!
September 26, 2011 at 1:33 pm
good one Red Dirt … the knife cuts both ways for sure! it’s refreshing seeing a different perspective from a man’s side of love/fwb/relationship ish.
September 26, 2011 at 4:15 pm
I agree, Marshe, and the task doesn’t seem easier as you get older, I thought we matured with age, most of us anyway.
September 27, 2011 at 7:00 pm
Black Raven is da shyt!!
September 26, 2011 at 6:32 pm
And so are you… so are you…
D
September 26, 2011 at 8:36 pm
TRACK ONE!
I never thought I’ll be without you
I doubt you
Ever thought the same, but we doin it again
You and I in the past have always been friends
And I swore the day I met we be friends ‘til the end
Yeah,
I know there’s times when even I can stand you
Said I’ll walk away, well at least I thought I planned to
Damn I can’t stand you
Your grip on me is so tight
Every time your in my head
I got to get up and write
Your gonna get me fired, always interrupting my life
But I know if I didn’t have you, I’d still be searching for light
Really
You like the one think that motivates me to live
You even the reason that I think about having more kids
I want all of them to know you, and the things that I see
It glorious thing to have you, glad you stuck it out with me
I know everyone is proud to have ya,
You her, her names CREATIVITY!!
September 27, 2011 at 12:55 pm
absolutely AMAZING! BP u’v done it again ….. i love ‘her’ too! ❤
September 28, 2011 at 4:17 pm
TRACK TWO
Now enter the path of Golden Arms, a UGL present’a
A deadly venom of a poet, ever since I bust out the placenta
A memba, represent’a of the psycho loco clan
Known to act a fool when I get a pen in my hand
I grip and I stand, lotus style, so I can create
Line for line, a master-verse that holds a lot of lyrical weight
I’m filling a plate, loading a bowl, see, the cups overflowing
A mind that never stop, ENERGIZER, keeps going and going
All seeing and knowing, Naw! Not talking about I
I’m talking about that great master poet that created the sky
He also created that guy, who create that thing
Which create the mean by which the poetry sings
I got a poetry fling, fling’n the words that are absurd yet they make sense
Gone back to the future so I can see I sound in the past tense!
I know that line makes no sense, but I been doing it since, my freestyles had scents
(THE SHIT)
And I’m gone for now til its time for track three
Golden Arms, Transform and roll out, its time for BP
September 27, 2011 at 12:55 pm
wow …. every line is a knock out! smh thinkin, ‘damn, i wish i woulda wrote that ish!’ fierce as hell!
September 28, 2011 at 4:20 pm
TRACK THREE
Entranced by a dark reveille
Hypnotic melody
A scream,
Gasp for air,
A hellish delicacy
I relished in thee
Embellish me
Let your fears be my passion
Immortal wails of distraction
Formulate my erotic reaction
Of satisfaction.
I see your grieving
Delighted by the sight of your pain
I need you bleeding
I’m eating
From deaths plate
A rectification of deaths weight
That ponders on the shoulder of the living
I can’t wait
Fore the darkness leaves no room for your position
My heartless creed, is to have you missing,
My mission
An disposition
Is dark and dismal
Abysmal
Void from the light
As serrated blade slices
A piece of your life
An remove you from the light
Flames of agony shall unite
And a ravenous feast
Will be held on you
Just for spite………
September 27, 2011 at 1:16 pm
standin ovation!
September 28, 2011 at 4:22 pm
Black is the night
that feels just write
like a blanket of isolation
wrapping my intentions
around visions of you, and I
missing the moment of why
with a blind eye closed
to enemies and foes
between us and paradise
and anyone who knows
I can’t be still
even if you will
trap who I am inside
so you can reside
with a man I don’t know
who will stage the show
you call life
at the point of a knife
stuck in my back
while I look ahead
with fear and dreaad
at being dead
or trapped
on the path you mapped
without listenin to my heart
beating out of time
with your rhyme
and reason screaming
and my thought bleeding
all over your dreams
of a me I don’t know
or care to explo
good-bye
September 28, 2011 at 2:57 pm
deep ink and great follow through… love this!
September 28, 2011 at 4:24 pm
i was feelin this freestyle
September 28, 2011 at 9:35 pm
Unknown
Everyday we grunts,Foot Soldiers
Famine ridden with burden shoulders
Holders of pain humility and discrimination
a people without love at the cost of a nation
Expectations set with
Expirations met
Inspirationa needed
dignity kept
we the hidden talent
the street corner artist
and for a lil change
i will play my story hardest
regardless of broken strings
everynote played is an emotional thing
every word spoken is the pain i sing
lighting up the dark
GOD as my blig
DING…
My times up
waiting for round 2
keep yours heads up
September 29, 2011 at 4:32 pm
Nice flow. Very deep.
David
September 30, 2011 at 12:26 am
Thank u imma try to be a regular again on the LAB
September 30, 2011 at 6:38 pm
Spittin out the barrel of a gun/ feelin like a pharaoh in the sun/ I don’t do the math, cuz all that matters is the sum/ so let’s get it done.. a revolution today/ start in the heart, then conquer the mind, so it won’t lead you astray/ yo, I’m kinda like, “fuck getting paid”/ and fuck being saved/ how’d that work out for the ones they enslaved?/ i just gotta look at the necks they done hanged… then the legs with them ankles in the chains/ same folk now told to go on stage an’ entertain/ and its all the same act, they just change up the names/… and i didn’t kno i was supposed go in like this/ listen closely, you can tell it aint begin like this/ 2012 already? nah, it cant end like this/ they attack.. i just defend like this:/ train the brain so the pen can write this/ don’t matter if you throwin a black or white fist/ who your wife is/ no matter what your tribe is.. gettin paid aint shit when you learn what is priceless//…fa’real
October 15, 2011 at 9:39 pm