Freewrite Cypher

right before bed....got a million and one things going on

shits hopeless....hoes just
circle like vultures....
need work like sculptures and symphony's
letting the god know it aint meant to be
letting the broad go she aint meant for me
debtin the hard road that a pimp can lead
forgettin the lost souls that i dreamt to leave
bettin on hard rolls so i can flips these keys
regrettin what lord knows....if i just could breathe
lat-ely i'm too busy taking care of my seed....
and plus...see...my BM's right here where i sleep
so i gotta watch what i type on the screen
risking ya cell digits getting seen...
all i'd be hearing is shreeks and screams
so the snares in the beat i repair wit my speech
like maybe...if u approach us...and u dont know us
u'll be feeling a cold rush chest aired in the street
close ya eyes and stare at defeat...growing up as heir to a creep
momma was loving but....evil hugged me up
cuz...the beast lair is the streets
i was posted right there wit a piece

bury u wack cats, Im married to black clips
weary to snap back, Spine gets teared out ya back quick
tha bomb artist slice a gap in ya face when I slash
Pass ya wife, That bitch'd get raped but she asked
Taken ya cash, none of ya wackness could match this
Out'll sleep wit ya broad, Then steal tha cash in tha mattress
I bash kids to hell, Flawless still in tha League
Check it wack fags, This cypher hardly even gets peeped
Yall nobodys, I'll send u home if u aint down wit my shit
When u get thrown, Afterwards youll put a crown on me bitch

cyphering for a title....beat the best on ya team
i aint as stressed as i seem...
i aint impressed wit ya idols
takin ya last breath is vital
if the burner...next to ya spleen
blood u gettin an eyeful
killing my rivals thats testin the king
message instilled from the bible
guess i'm blessed from the grave....
all of my dead fam...RIP next to they names
heard they got a crib next to the gates, thats pearly...got a good view
a good few couldn't get breaks that early
can't worry the woes the hood use....bullets in furry's
foes...gettin a gun early and put it to good use surely
thug in the flesh, lou summers the vet
sippin out of a bottle
watchin people in packs
buyin up lotto hopin numbers'll match
so they can scrap tomorrow and live for today
remember me....
enemies affected from memories
of me riding wit devolpment got arrested in tennesse

whose next to spark it wit dude...
who can walk in my shoes....
if u talkin bout the prince of the lou,
that's an awkward ass dude
his walkin and talkin is smooth
react in the awfulest moods
put the hawk to ya
make u faggots the talk of the news
just give me a bounty i catch'em
probably'll wet'em...just promise u'll let'em
out of the mess that i'm honestly gettin
picture, scripture drawing a picture wit a prophecy setting
apostle...alot of these stresses
get taken in less when this weeds in my nostrils
with these i'm colossal...roll with thieves in my team
wit desert eagles to pop u...actions u better cease'em
or even our chicks'll be reachin for bottles
...u blink and they knock u
yeah....sneezin, i'm hot dude....no demon..
but we easy to hot u...ice, no chips...no reason
i'm so sick, no shit...kids flow shits on half these rappers wit gold discs

What these young “gs” See in me,
Hopeless raps and spat lines, not hot like hip to HOPs resumes,
PHUCK THAT!!
I provide props, respect and non-stop ups to RM raps,
Picture me Hop “n” the beat, while you cop “n” a beat,
I’ll be at home listen to Kenny G. Tap “n” my feat,
Call it the Jazz in me, down to the bone, beyond Brooklyn Height
I see I lost you in the need for speed writes,
see-- I sneak in sweet lyrical rhymes when I writes,
so you can say SWEET -!G if you like,
I'll just direct to the haters board-Exit right..
“ I GOT WHAT YOU NEED”
I got crystal clear rhymes,
I got what I need
with no hysteria metaphors,
unless you catch me high off beats
with megaphone type hits you think I was high off weed,
I’m not on B.E.T's mic yet,
cause I live for the Wall Street market
You on the type beat of black and whites
But you seeing blue and red lights
You lose at street profit chase "n" a thugs Life,
You in jail --right, i'm fee still liven right
I’m here to get you on the hype tip,
but some you kats be on that bytch trip
put me in coach Quick back on the Bench bytch,
What you don’t like.
You spite at!
Spit bars to score green or red bars,
Call you a Porn Stars
While You feed those ride me baby lines
Got you hyped like rap stars and all you are,
Fans with plus or negative re-marks,
I’m beyond that MARKS,
get ya game right..CHUUUUURCH
Hip-hop is respect- right, critique and leads- right
Well tell us what you really like...​

My flows is moving reckless and moving checkers past food inspectors, my life is a tax return after i got my dues collected/
Dude be wreckin, almost anything he jus be sittin on, So the top seat of the rap game, got a loose leg wit screws put on/
Moving on, to the fact that he got big feet wit shoes put on, movin chrome, the tv's in da crib is what they put the movies on/
The newbies gone, so all we got left is tha veterans, that are better than being out there perscribing the best medicine/
Sick game, doctors detected it and gathered evidence,Street pharmacists, my dope rhymes is what im peddelin/
Fencing scripts, cause my E true life story is on at 7 and the story sound too good to be true, just like it's wrestleing/
W-W-E, WEll What Ever that really means, cats like me, stay on the low and are never caught meddling/
Like scooby doo and the kids, dat investigate with clues and shit, catch monsters like me so, "DAMN THOSE ROTTEN KIDS!!"

that boy spazzed out

can't fathom the secrets when summer unfold
that's why i feel like i'ma a hundred years old
the years of the pain earned tug on ya soul
blunted and cold
street stories get told from a youngin with flows
lungs-filled-with-smoke, heavily weeded
dope in the drop v...driving down 70 speeding
cop keys from papi, i bet it be cheaper
cats try to copy, bet he will sleep ya
red dot thieves
beam red on the heater,
hot u and get u sent str8 to the freezer, tell that bum i said keep ya.....
it's said i'ma teacher
gettin head in a beamer, that's not mine
it's the whip of a chick thick as serena
chicks look like senorita's...r&b divas
stuck at a stop sign
givin head as a teaser,
nightowl, if i get out of bed for a breather
i think criminal thoughts
turn and breathe out the deadliest ether
if i ever met a fate, it's face, i bet it's a reaper
and i bet he be reaching..
cuz of things i did on them weekends
how i deaded the beefin.....
so when i seent u creepin, tec is to greet ya
life is a test..
and i got the scores to stay ahead of the cheaters
u'll barely be breathing, more like
buried in cement....only weed colored blueberry we cheefin
my niggaz is sick, we rarely be sneezing
u scared of them bastidz
cuz we stay strapped like herion addicts, get it?
keep needles for customers, heroin packets...get it
shoot up ya veins, u a dame...i cant be vain
look in the mirror see a facless reflection
spittin on a basis consitent
hoping someone'll listen
my rhyme styles an ageless condition
sayin u better? u derranged and demented...playa u trippin
niggaz living flashy like it was directed by hype williams
them them niggaz that might witness a trife killing..in third person
in the middle of shakedowns i'll flip u the bird, cursing
u was prolly playin the stool pigeon just like a bird chirpin
i run thru chicks like borrowed kicks
like babygirl, it's me and u, but then tomorrow hits
and i'm on some ol, lose my number...no sorrow here
raps my J-o, never get layed off
we letting them stray's off...guns dirty as stray dogs
hit u with like 30 shots glock knawing ya face off
kay boss i'm finished, aight...songs ended, sorry i'm longwinded

Breath control got me inching for wind
With this mic prowess through the vein like needles and pins
I got the urge and the hunger for more, to get rich
Or die tryin', as they got my bones to pick
Any MC come in my way, they get their head split
Severed, cut in half, like eight bars
Out of the mean sixteen that I use to spar
Strike with inner rage, spit with fury
To get off the subject, damn these chicks allure me
With their shaped waists, bodily features
Make a nigga like me, wanna follow his weakness
But my strengths in my heart and in the pad they lie
My star's shining like the earth, wind, and fire collide
Back like that, like a "Killah" in streets, the game needs me
When you meet defeat, you're left to wonder like Stevie
I got my mind and the world soon behind me
Caught between us, c'mon ya gotta sign me
Smooth like I'm C.L., rock like Pete
Wait, Ima show love for the Black Eyed Peas
In this context, there's no disrespect
I "bust-a-rhyme" so quick, Spilff may break his neck
Combining the joints and the jams as the volume pumps
Call from the Request Line: "THIS AIN'T NO MY HUMPS!!!"

Call from the Request Line: "THIS AIN'T NO MY HUMPS!!!"

Call the back up,
quick bring me the pumps
extra clips and the gun trucks,
The flash backs of sand fights and land attacks
I'm thrown way back so far it's to the sun and back
peep my back, toasted like wonder bread ,
I rather be dead, resurrected with a kings head,
call me lion heart, better yet, lion king,
being the being beyond your meaning is,-- who I be,
the things I’ve seen, laid bodies on cold bedding,
ment not to be discrete , more like the Oklahoma bombing,
In Who we trust, the man who got tha balls to bust first
So call me president Bush...

bored for this shit, man I was born for this shit,
took an oath of allegiance, im sworn to this shit,

bored men, played! on the bored men,
boring Im boring a an I swear this hole thing,
is just a waste of time,

Whipping up soul food wit Goodie Mob in the tape deck
Collect my intellect as I keep my therapy in check
The only way out is through wit this writer's block
Time running out as my eyes view upon the clock
Striking the last second of my mind's thought process
Hard to digest, whats next up for my life yet
So I keep the pen movin along til I find the answers
Transforming into questions, my sickness now a cancer
As this frustration takes its form in meditation
Relaxing the stress, to display upon the nation
With anarchy reaching the heights of damnation
I bring myself down from earth through word rotation
This is no hobby, this medicine is my downtime
So now its time to spread my message to the outside

So now its time to spread my message to the outside

the lords coming do you have your bags packed?
do you know if you even going take the trip?
drop the stacks of doe and hoes and pickup the BOOK
flip through the pages let the knowledge hook
ya brain so you can maintain and avoid the flames
cause this heaven and hell shit ain't a joke its strictly business man
so you betta come correct causes respect is key
disrespect the true lord and your resting palce will be much lower than 6 feet deep.

Then there’s me and G—O----D
I’m filled with glee, so high my soul shines
grief and pain while basking in flaming rain dies,
the same going through your veins if you don’t open ya eyes
the dreams streaming through your brain shutters ya eyes
open wide shut is ya style presented with lies
a forked tongue, I know you in disguise,
Disgusted forced to dwell in clowns masks
Are you happy or sad, while liven your fad
forced everyday to see you and your style wont last...

Beat: Nas- Halftime

With whack MC's style, they don't last, they stay at the bottom
From bottom, Im at the top, I run this state like H. Rodham
Dope rhymes, got 'em, I keep addiction at a threshold
For the time, to unleash the beast, let the rest fold
Into the paper where the wounds manifest into a disease
I'm like the wind, my presence in the game is a breeze
Communicate with the mouth, demonstrate with the finger
In the middle of my hands, where my point is made clearer
Enslaved to this lifestyle, but I am NOT a prisoner
Hip Hop is my bitch, nowadays can't even picture her
The way we were, now's tarnished by opinions toward
What he saw upon the top ten of the "Bill Boards"
Now Static's here to restore, no matter what I endure
Keep status secure, before you end up obscure

Beat: Ludacris- Number One Spot

Who's left to illustrate the world with his words?
Call upon me, the image of a spirit, livid and absurd
In his mind, he has the power to verbalize
Through emotion, expression, intention, and supplies
The depth of the lyrical prowess, to expose the coward
In you, the world will see it to, when im through wit you
Made it habits for the truth to hurt in vocabulary
While sittin' in storms, sippin' liquor wit Halle Berry
This game ain't heaven, more like real-life hell
It's goin' down, like Yung Joc, followed by his record sales
I had to point that out, before the crowd got it twisted
In knots, and tangled, and my anger leads to tightfisted
Rage in these sixteens, fighting with punches in lines
Gather the syllables together, what you have is a rhyme
And here, the number one spot is the grand prize
So far, I'm winning the race, no need to fantasize

We all in a inebriated state of denial,
wake “n” the dead in our own 8 miles
I think I’ve sunk past em,
Ask God to reincarnate em,
the fake just to toss em back in the lake,
now they burning, “can’t you hear em screamin?”
They returned back to be demons,
or brought back to be semen,
Don’t worry I’ll persuade daimon to,
squirt em out in the fire,
I’m a simpleton with desires
I get nipples son, big 44 D one’s,
when my lust captivates me son
I to go get some,
you can catch me drinking RED-RUM,
with my next victim,
or bloody Mary with the sick one’s,
who write dumb raps about guns and crack sales,
money and a cars wealth,
I rather write about heaven or hell
give suggestions to write sinful tails,
I’m on a one way track from hell, straight to heaven I bail,
bring nothing foul,
I had two strikes God told me the third was a foul,
I fell but I pick my self back up,
screaming to haters to back up,
I’m in heavens haven driven a LACk truck,
I’m cleansed bra, clear of my sins bra,
them last bars bra was written in hell bra,
I’m tiered so I had to unplug,
Now I’m getting high of life and love
cause I got a third chance to prove
That I’m above hell and heavens my drug...Come on!!

I wipe you niggaz off my dick like you was LIP GLOSS..
Round hea' im the BIG BOSS, hustlin everyday..
Niggaz would think i was RICK ROSS.!
i aint gon type the rest because u nerds'll GET OFF...
and im callin my bitch befo' my DICK'S SOFT.

This kids raw like my dick after an orgy
I’m worthy, to flow like topsy turvy,
I got foul haters talk “n” loud and ain’t say “n” nothing
Follow the script and stop front “n”
Follow my lead or get stunted, smoked like a Philly
I’m chilly with blood on my hand split “n” the Philly
Blood stains on my hand and you the victim,
In the land where the grass is grey, sun’s eclipsed,
Guns with loaded clips, no one’s- blood stained- from dry by hits
I see you on shifty blocks, where the murders stop
If the cops would bring you to a stop the murder tops
You get to blast em in the brain and yell phuck the cops
I’ll give you props you slow the flow to dry bye roll
But you never hit a soul,
you cop, and ya flow needs to be recalled...lets go!!

Lettin them hectic words flow, and be 6feet under.
Yea its deep under, have u sweatin me, like heat in summer/
Hit you wit tha Heat like summer..im causin havoc/
You say "howd all this happen", i see you coughin faggot/
You must be chokin, or just shootin up base/
Dont make me shoot up the place, put the two-two to ya face/
Hear a beat and BOOM BOOM, like i was boostin the bass/
Callin me cop? i think u got it backwards/
That gets u clapped herb, ya brain can get fractured/
Ya facts swerve, and you got me dyin from laughin-
So i guess you DID kill me with that wack verse..