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We’re life’s outcast’s/The game!
this is posted sooner that i wanted to, i was going to do a 3rd verse but i wanan see what you think of what it is so far!
A pen n paper is my liberator, my indiscernible saviour.... The game is bigger than the Eiffel tower, many it’ll empower... Others it’ll devour, for the preponderance, the game’ll turn sour... If rap wasn’t real, nothingness is what the majority would feel... The fame is depicted as Surreal, we rappers, have chest’s of steal... But for many, the reputation lost’s it’s appeal, but we conceal... Our horrific ordeal, with slugs, drugs, and our infinite sex appeal... If what we do, is indeed to be true, the surely we are ‘pac’s chosen few... The topics that we construe, the fame we endure, is long overdue... Rumours that come with our debut, usually turn out, to be outrageously untrue... But our goal the we pursue, and what it puts us through, is simply despicable... Our life is depicted as unstable, we stretch to be hooked-up, with our desired label... To succeed, you gotta be willing and able, to go for that mythical fable we are told… But low and behold, one day we’ll all strike gold, till then put your 9 on hold… Till that day, stay strong and bold, and wait for our unimaginably sucess to unfold… We’re life’s outcast’s, Bolshie’s// The ones that were chosen, god’s trusties// Our life is impromptu, we cut like blades// To ‘pac, we’re superior to you, till our life fades// (a story of a eveyrday rapper) Quickly ran straight home form the pitiless of sin... Tried countless times to quietly fit in, but they cut my confidence like a fin... Lied conscientiously, acted like I was made of unbreakable tin, operated strong... Sighed disappointingly, through those long discussion, I knew I was wrong... Ride pointlessly around, listening attentively to a eloquence ‘pac song... Annoyed sincerely about the unclean evil in my locker, a bloody used tampon... I spread my illustrious wings and attacked them like a flacon, fucked them... Took on all 10, acted like a furious army of outrageous men... That unnecessary act, through me in the pen, dismal nights I spent alone... Sittin’ by the lonely phone, talking to ma, ending each distant call with a groan... I cried uncontrollably when I heard the tone, I realised that I was all alone... My date with the noose, I hade to postpone, my eventual fate, was unknown… |
Rumours that come with our debut, usually turn out, to be outrageously untrue...
But our goal the we pursue, and what it puts us through, is simply despicable... Our life is depicted as unstable, we stretch to be hooked-up, with our desired label... To succeed, you gotta be willing and able, to go for that mythical fable we are told… But low and behold, one day we’ll all strike gold, till then put your 9 on hold… Till that day, stay strong and bold, and wait for our unimaginably sucess to unfold… Like your stuff Rythmic ...Keep spittin. |
you pushed the vocab too far...
it's obvious you wrote this with the dictionary in your face... i'm not feelin' that shit.... |
what he said.. but it was good still... nice flow and wordplay.. nothing really special, had some cool metaphores and shit too I guess..
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^^^^What he said
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i did'nt use a dictionary for most of it, i just have a decent range of vocab, i do English lit at school so i guess that helps i suppose..
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i dont regret reading this it was deceant
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