Alright, you want some verses.


Poetry:



A Spotted Reality

I awoke from sleep to find that I was a beautiful leopard.
Confused about reality and which life is the dream.
I shed my thoughts of humanity and embrace the beast.
Blinking away the black spots of confusion for those of life.

My entire body surges with vitality that I never knew before.
I have just awoken and yet I could outrun most anything.
Coiling my back legs I launch like a bullet from a gun.
Running for the sheer joy of the wind in my face.

I am a yellow streak on the golden plains of my home.
The rushing air cools the sweat glistening on my flanks.
The ground has become a slight sensation under my feet.
As I melt in with my surroundings…and nearly fly.

My run slows and I pad over to the shade of the treeline.
Where cool forest meets hot plain I come to take my rest.
My claws leave divots in the tree bark where I climb up.
Curling up on a tall branch to watch and make my rest.

Sleep comes in a lazy way, making me dopey.
But my half-lidded eyes suddenly pop open.
I feel a rumbling in my huge lithe belly.
So I watch the movement on the plains and wait.

I leap from my branch and land lightly on my feet.
I have a target, and I begin to run again, quickly.
The gazelle sees me and begins to run also.
It has no chance, to it I’m the fastest thing alive.

I leap and my teeth make contact with its neck.
Our bodies roll over and over in the dirt of the plain.
I spring up to my feet and my prey lies still in the dust.
Taking the corpse in my teeth, I head back to my tree.

My belly full, I lean my head against the cool bark.
I am the pinnacle of my evolution, nothing can compare.
And as sleep sneaks up on the greatest of hunters.
I wonder, will I be on two legs when I wake tomorrow?




Text:

Here's the link to text elevation, come and battle me after you go use it./
Watch me drop X harder and faster than ravers jamming to techno music/

I rhyme too hot. An effortless win, I’ll easily slice through all you brought./
But it’s easy to aim KO punches cuz all pirates know X MARKS THE SPOT/

Battling me is the equivalent of blind Spanish cripples trying to race bulls./
And you’ve only got DMX in belly after taking a round of cumshot facials./

I know elevation can cause frustration, but whack lines just invite hate son/
Now I understand why he listed getting “schooled” as a full-time occupation./

Left helpless like kids with ~broken necks~ my ill lines stay ~smoken vets.~/
And like a Mothers Against Club Drugs meet there won’t be any votes for X./















^ I have more text battles if you want to see more.

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