Dat nigga D-Dizzle at it again...
walk wit da kid....

I’m at the level where it’s impossible for me to elevate
My chops salivate at the pound of the break beat, the sound of insane streets../
Motivates this poets ‘state of mind’, rest my ‘head in Michigan’
In the depth if listenin’ to the bowls of demons in my bed and wisperin’/
Provoking the locus like flowin goin’ to omens
To my tormented peoples who don’t know where they souls went/
This nigga tryin to move more souls than the S-dot-Carters
Contest my myters who’s sorry like the S-Dot-D-dot Padres, if I say/…
A verse, best believe it’s written in the ‘stone’ of ages
from the art form birth from Planet ‘Rock’, magnify the ‘gravel’ for clone of my faces/
‘cuz Im close to the streets, but my inner soul is in the heavens
Ghostwriting for the spirit of David, write perfected scrolls in the sevens/
Heartfelt flow conceive rain, while battle raps entrees thunder
Grasp the night to relive pain, and the morning sun to retreat under/
Cough out the clouds and take a shit in the form of tornadoes
I’m more than a mere emcee, I’m an immortal born to take over/..

Scream at cha Dirty

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Bang On The Table Productions