'Book Of Rhymes'

Chorus:
Looking back with fine eyes
Re-tracing steps cus time flies
We keep writing to gain skill
Even if sometimes it's painful
Hard to stop like a train full
What we rip is hot, yes it rains still
Cus we'll never stop...

Pugilist: Verse 1

Looking through my book of rhymes
I now realize, i'm getting better with time
Skills are shown within these few lines
I keep writing to improve, so i should be fine
'controlled quality', powers to write anything
It's ok to follow me, some right directions i'm heading
You can't stop me like Iverson with no goal tending
I'll keep puttin up shots and leave ya soul stressing

'it's problematic, when i attack it
verbally fan-tas-tic, rap fanatic'

Play it back quick, that's some tightness
Was a fan first, which brought me into this
Right now in the early stages, of hip hop
Creating, and will not stop, till the casket drops
Is how i feel about this right now
Over beats just writing my feelings out

I'll 'agitate your mental state, at a high frame rate'
Fill up ya plate cus dinner with me will be ya last date
Like you stepped to the plate with 2 strikes already
One more pitch play you'll be laying there limp like spaghetti

'multisyllable, criminal, rhymes that are written'
Me?
Impenetrable, whimsical, personality i didn't mention
Before now, i don't try too hard to stand out in a crowd
Lookout now, train is gaining momentum, out i found
That how to gain skills is constant practice, repitition
Like you gotta master sommersaults, then move on to, back-flips
To improve your demonstration, think harder if you, lack-wits
Draw from life experiences, sooner then you think you'll be,
Hitting the ball harder with your, racq-uet,
And looking through another side of the fence...//

--Chorus--

rule: Verse 2

I sit an write daily in my book of rhymes, comen up wit metaphores an similies to past the time
emotions an suggestions bombing the pad wit u.s bombs towards iraq unexspectadly or half blind
puglist lets rip a list of scripts for this book an rip a mic to delight my insight about my fetish for my bible
religous at night in my own space filled with stars no astriods or black holes just a paridice cuz im able
past present an future...taken over all 3 to increase the intencity of the fists of fury thats unleashed in'a hurry
devils worst enemy i killed the underground gods wit lyrical storm of thoughts in'a hurry made even mudossa flurry

Contagious like chickin pocs obligated to keep these wonna be emcees in the life of a stage
if i cud i wud buz out a 12 cage an shoot em for what they couldnt write down on the page
fuck juz put me in the hospital now for chriest sake..me an my book of rhymes make me look like a mistake
i couldnt re-incarnate a flower even if i had the power to ignite a spiritual wave an god capibilites in my fate
Inpecable to the respectable an capable hand an write that helps these thoughts be put on the fine line
write in blood in my verses to show my purpose that i love to fall an recline then write in my book of ryhmes/

--Chorus--
-End-