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Open Casket
Honoring my fallen bretherin' that never had a chance to live.//
it's like they was born, then laid down to rest again.// come straight from the playground, to loadin' extra clips.// reading the newspaper exerpt's with expert.// shit... "Male 21, gunned down.. Parents make statement.. "It's so un-fair" Police have no clues, just another man-down they don't care.."// cold air, clentch my hands clamped 'round photo's and this bottle-of booze,// opened and hollowed to the ground for spiritual use.// I shed a tear, it's no use.. they gone for good, another home in the hood left with extra rooms.// cemitary's fillin' up with excess tombs, assailant niggaz still proud an' on the loose.// what's a man ta do.. except open up wounds in suspects ta come back for my dead hommies, rude..// HOOK cemitary's stock piling.// morgues blocked up with homicides'n.// unsolved crimes, names range from allison - to zander pyle..// sometimes I'm surprised this mans still alive...// We alive until we reach the end.// breach of breath that leaves us weak and stained like the bleech was red.// free from death, already passed on.// released from stress, but 6 feet is beneath where the live would like to step.// we thrive until we meet demise through un-rightful rivals with cold frozen heads.// killa's feel no remourse like they force emotions in.// never show fear, or lust for blood, just bust they guns and run as they un-cover ruptured lungs.// they victems just so young, un-sung hero zero'd and like dust they gone.// not remembered like we all just forgot.// no more- stop.. why we actin like this.// re-actin' like manic ill-mind activists with access to pistols so cheap it's like we "clap" for 10.// HOOK skills of matter and thoughts of skills that ain't amature.// still stuck as the 7/11 night manager.// ambitions of becoming a rap master shattered by a black cancer.// some mans has the idea for armed robbery of ones life in a violent manner.// brandishin' a nine and spoutin sinister laughter.// "give me the money" in an instant stacks handed.// then tha gun claps, spirit spills and the advancer dashes without answers.// blood splashes over the lenolium and spreads like a wild blaze.// survailance tape shows nothing but a hooded no-name.// jon doe type game, with a mask and gloves, no-way to identify the guy's fade, man-hunt for only one day.// victem laid in a grave with a suit and fluids drained.// no arrests made, not knowing who did it's the worse 'cause then rest ain't reached so in limbo mans stay.// |
nice spit blunt,liekd the chorus,i thought it had the prodigy type feel to it nahmean,sounds tight from here anyway...
I shed a tear, it's no use.. they gone for good, another home in the hood left with extra rooms.// cemitary's fillin' up with excess tombs, assailant niggaz still proud an' on the loose.// liked thsoe lines blunt,keep posting bismillah |
uppin'...
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"never show fear, or lust for blood, just bust they guns and run as they un-cover ruptured lungs.//
they victems just so young, un-sung hero zero'd and like dust they gone.//" I liked this whole piece but sum parts REALLY got me.It had imagery in it and hot metaphors.Good message,evry1 should peep dis.Stay ^ -Avi |
uppin'.. inspired by my boy Mike Boise.. RIP.. this shit has meaning to me and any other real gangsta/ thug/ banga on this site..
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uppin'.. sleepers are gonna get haunted by all tha fallen souljas..
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This was nice son..
feelin the multis and flow.. keep at it peace -1- |
this shit was ill peep my shits on open mic
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uppin'
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very real flow dog.shit always comes to you a little better when it comes from the heart instead of the head.holla at'cha boy
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tight shit dog
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def as is expected
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.Blunt.
Hot as usual kid... you had some deep feeling in that joint, you a serious ass nigga. Wordplay was on point, as usual. Uppin' this joint.
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