here it is i'm Heaven scent, living in Hell...Royce da 5'9"


genocide/
spent bent on my death bed, sentenced lives/
like Nabulis my enternal apacolypse/
surging to firm my research of this disease learning (liar)/
the rays burnin, my insides are tired/
old earth yearning for answers, fuck being ill like cancer/
throats further attack lungs, soldiers driven by fear/
flow out my coma, sleep and live in my tears/
leaking deposits of blood atomic waves, causes wraths on warships/
cavity stricken stomach, tape my vomit, it raped my highness/
take away this drama i pleaded to momma/
she said recieve it as a lesson, acknowledge it presence/
then believe it/
digestion of this metallic rubble that used to be homes/
and less than three codes,crooked italic structure, my cultural genome/
there will be no...right function retreat from my phenotype/
ignoring peoples plight to enlighten the western egos sight/
blinded...the shits hearsay....

there'll be no therapy like Keimo
half my generation nomads, others under the wrath of John Ashcroft and Janet Reno/
quarter of me died....Collin Powell losed by his own institutional people holding resolutions/
stating we are equal when he needs mental restitution/
who would've grown smart children, instead of wasted
enslave your race first, now you work for the Masons/
who start building in a cave of displacement/
Earth batters revolve, families envolved in the U.N./
pointing fingers in our direction, telling us who ends inspections/
mad discussions, fed from weapons of mass dysfunction/
tragic junction, the paths are destructive, subject mad erupting/
no longer a number, the sum of my infractions/
i'm stronger....
numb of the bombers, of the realms dethrone us/
so you better walk away, before they run up on us/
like escalators, dramatized, escalate hate, and and disgarce the maker/
request behavior, wrecked the tribe between the west and Asia/
my planets stranded on its own axis/
standing empty handed/
destined to lose this scene of Satanic land attachments/


i lack laughter, awaiting the next chapter/
to amend the lies, and disasters, run to desendants of signs/
while we pretend to ignore the end of time/
push you off track, screaming who the fuck are you when Bushes talk back/
not Narcicyst, walk black hearted for my nationality...rationally/
mesapitanium, uranium shelled homospaien/
dwell below in the caves you claimed me in/
engaged in racial plagues, my age did me in/
i die...aching, shaking, why did we behave in ways, to display ignorant beings/
convade disgrace in this sacred scene...God or man/
bomb in my hand, to disarm this span of weak vision/
breath slowly descending, and step into the beginning/
holding my enfants in Heaven..that would have existed in these seven......

hmmm...

^^ok i dont know if that was a good reply or critisicm...but good looking out anyways...

uppin this piece though

shit why isnt anyone critisicing this..shit i thought gettin slept on only happened in open mic

i liked ti, sounds like old misfits songs. the misfits are the best thing ever, next to run dmc. i really enjoy the whole"atomic end" stuff. great 1980's paranoia feeling to it. but obviously it also has an intoverted, emotional quality as wel. nice. keep it up.

^^ you should peep the audio track i made outta that poem...its carzy...good looking out...one

I really felt this piece seems like you thought about this be4 actually putting it down I mean it seemed deeply heartfelt ya know and I read the whole thing...TWICE so you know it touched me a bit.....well enuff of the soft shyt Holler

^^i got it on audio...if you wanna listen to it just holla back namsayin

uppin this

still uppin this piece

DAMN....uppin this piece for 54876543987654987 time namsayin...just read it and tell me yes its good..or no it blows...lol....one

Epic...

...even though at times a bit akward and maybe too elaborate...overall it was a heavyweight piece, which was fairly well executed considering the extent to which this piece went to...the 'levels' if you would....

....anyway, nicely done overall, grapes (formely resp....).....

thanks dunny...it was about iraqi children namsayin...my heart goes out to them man they goin thru shit none of us could possibly imagine or would want to for that matter...anyways good looking out...one

woah...let me catch myself....you said:

convade disgrace in this sacred scene...God or man/
bomb in my hand, to disarm this span of weak vision/
breath slowly descending, and step into the beginning/
holding my enfants in Heaven..that would have existed in these seven......

that's a real sound depictation of despair...Whole piece was tight man, I want to Pm you for a colab....peace