PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Who say's I can't rip

Six pages of metaphors

Knockin'em on the floor

And drag'em out the fuckin door



My dialect

Is hevean sent

And I'm swinging for the neck

So it's best you protect



Everything that is vital

You must be suicidal

Fuckin around with me  

I'm quotin verses like the bible



I'm just to far out of ya range

And I know it seems strange

You got beat for your posistion

And their's no one to blame



See I maintain

The same game

I'm professional

You cats are fuckin lame



So who wants to battle

The true and livin all star

By far the baddest man alive

On fire like the morning star



With the mic in my hand

My grip becomes an iron fist

Knockin out every hata

That appears up on my shit list



Who can get with

The icon

Unmearsable by any standards

The battle is over so I wave my banner



See I drive cat's delirous

I'm dead serious

The closest thing to me

Is a near death experince



So go ahead and pass thru the light

And maybe you'll hear angles sing

One more hata gone

Makes it easier to do my thing



I got no reason to front

I split these succas like blunts

It seems I'm the only thorughbred left

Surrounded by runts



So it's a must

When I feel threatend I bust

Wilden the fuck out

With no one to trust



So come on

Give me some more fuel

I'm warming up the spot

Like I pissed in the pool



There's no surviving the duel

Ya shit's been dismantled

Ya need to go and retool

Ya fuckin fool



Just sit back and relax

Vebal shit worse then exlax

As I exact my genius

Watch as I interact



And interface

Fuckin up they database

You got something on your mind

Say it to my fuckin face



But I just ignore

Cat's that claim that they hard-core

Over concerned with they money

And they fuckin car



I have no doubt

I inflict pain when I open my mouth

Hata's run home to find me

Sittin on they fuckin couch



Waitin on they moms and sister

At the same time

Old lady, just missed her

I had to send her home cryin



Now who you mad at

Me or yourself

Think about your next move

Consider your health



Or maybe I'll just disappear

And slip away like an assassin

Slip into the night

And walk away laughin



You better then me

Let's be for real

My style's the cure for everything

Just call me benadryl



Extra strength for that extra long haul

A hustla since the day I was born

Forever fuckin over all of yall

And doin it with a southran drawl



With a mental mind state

Of I just don't give a fuck

My shit stay funky

Like two fuckin garbage trucks



Out to make a buck

But never out on his luck

This dummy swinging again

It's best that yall duck



Or you can be struck

By a force that can change the world

Sit down young-buc

Here's how the story is told



So lets see if you can relate

To my mental mind state

Don't stoke the flame

Succas get burned trying to playa hate



I stays more than southren then red beans and rice

And convertin more cats then Jasus Christ

Yo, it's nothing nice

These hustlas stay precise



In everything that we do

Hustlas on this level

Are far between

And very few



So think about it good

Battling me is very risky

Fuckin up more cats

Then a bottle whiskey



190 proof

Keepin they head spinnin

And just when you thought it was over

You find it's only the begining



So buckle up

Cause it's gonna be a bumpy ride

If you scared of the thunder

I suggest that you stay inside



Only in my truest hustlas do I confide

Esse's the man

I can say that with pride

The rest of you cats is livin a lie



A lyrcial pit-bull

Point'em out and let me sic'em

The next one after you

Is just another victim



I inflict'em with so much pain

It's amazing

Three hours from now

And the mic's still blazing



To hot to be touched

By wanna be poets

I wreck shop

And you know it



A simple retreat

Is all I can suggest

You boy's gonna end up

With worse luck

Then a black cat

With one life left



So leave now

And you may survive

I give you the mic back

Just to explain being eaten alive



On danger I thrive

A skinny lil cat

With nothing to hide

And a chest full of pride



See I'm a guaranteed

Home-run hitter

I'm known as a prophet

You known as a bull-shitter



There is no m.c.

I can't out box

My shit's solid

Like cocrete cinder blocks



These cat's gettin agressive

Cause their whole career I eclispin

They wanna blaze it out in the street

But that's not in my job description



A hustla by birth

An m.c. by choice

I've done finally arrived

So all lady's rejoice



Let me put this in ya ear

Incase you don't know how it's happenin

I don't just have kids

Baby, I breed champions!!!