LAST BREATH
I laid my eyes low when I heard the news
I changed my perspective once I expressed my views
I saw a tear drop my heart beat skipped
My smile got eclipsed
Faded away like the sun set
What would you choose?
The land to step everyday or the grave, or would you have both n loose
No living thing knows the feeling
Of…Is my body lighter than the air or my spirit’s leaving?
We better look close read between the lines of the scripts of destiny’s film
Coz no one really knows where his fate is leading him
That’s where this story is heading to
The truck did it, went straight to the bus they was traveling with head on
Of all 63 passengers she was the only one to meet with death
Took her by the hands to his home to rest
So yeah Qham says that is alil bit cynical
Shit is debatable
But death was alil bit choosy
I don’t mean to be rude to you dude (death) but you took her early
She was a dutiful hardworking servant of God
Dedicated her life to the Gospel, it was a tool so precious like Moses’ rod
But we are warned not to hold on to the dead
Although that does not mean my shout out should fade
We shouldn’t cry just be happy for the new life she has led
Better place she has gone to, away from all man’s involvement with guns and lead (bullets)
Rest in peace all the loved but dead
You were loved before or at least our eyes were opened
Plain reality made known by painful circumstances
Don’t they say you never know what you have until you loose it
We now know, from today hence forth love those close, even a kiss could do it
R . I . P.
WHO’S NEXT ON THE MIC?
Pass the curry
I want to splash some nutrients on these cuties
Coz niggaz use ‘em like they got the mentality of looting
They hang up pumping their dicks hard while polluting
Can’t keep up the game, their engines week and lame
Am telling this story while my eyes on a cutie, am hazy
The scent of her bosom driving me crazy
But I control myself just to stare at her hazel eyes
Her lips dripping with some red shit, I lay back and dream with her having the French fries…
I walked up to her and dropped the point blank without dwelling on lies
I might have gone too obvious with this piece, she might suspect my rhyme
But am too gangster to give a fuck, too street to give a damn
My mind is too abusive coz it’s the theatre of all these illusions
My soul shouts out to this lucrative organ, to stop the lame intrusions
Creativity‘s my mission
Rod on this road for so long and ended up having a poetic collision
Didn’t dream too much before it came true
Didn’t struggle too much when I used this precious tool
Now my mind conscious and that’s my first rule
A young rapper sleeping on talent like the fool in the bible sitting on the one talent
Before you rob me of this gift like the gentleman, am bursting with hot laments
So u definitely have to sit back and wait once more coz they are multiplying
How many are they now, am multi-rhyming
Yo am tight, the flows’ bright so where’s the mic
MCz now scared when I caress the mic like I look like fright
Am as angry as a bull, my hands sticky like glue
So when I hold it once it’ll take decades to let go am sick with microphone-fever like flu
I was talking about a mic now see how far goes this influence
It’s stuck on every streetwalker’s lips, have you now seen its affluence
I made a vow of a hiphop nazarite, so no fool’s blade should pass this legendary brain
I hiphope this game, as hard as it is with pain
Coz I get too lyrical and usually beats get slain
And the walls got splat with graffiti all tribulating my name
Not fame my nigga, but for those loyal to the game
So when am hollarin at my big hommie in the studio to pass the curry,
Am talking about whose next on the mic, trust me I got shit to burry, slow no hurry
Meet me in the studio (the good house) talking about things that hurt me
Don’t look at me with those heavy with tears eyes, am just getting em outta my chest
I got shit so real n visible so I Dirt off ma vest
I spit a hot lyric they say its hardcore ,, dummy
Didn’t you know spittin to me is Like losing puke from yo tummy
So hate or love me, I don’t care or worry
I got a dirty little secret for y’all listeners/readers
My lyrical ability got men in the markets asking me to sell my skill like bidders
I laughed at ‘em for their folly, fuck ‘em dick riders
Sorry for my lewd language, but I gotta express my anger
Coz niggaz don’t want to hear me spit tight to quench not their thirsty but feed their hunger..!!!
THE HOUSE OF HARLOTS (DEATH AVENUE)
The ladies in the hood chanting down gimmicks
This ain’t a bolt from the blue coz it’s part of street politics
Swept by the hooker current was a nigga in his forties
Didn’t enjoy life before age took away his prime
Now he says its pay back coz the nigga wasted his time
He was one of the street ordinaries, though his endeavors wasn’t drugs or crime
Off this character is a group of women and girls of not-so-bad or good breeding
Engaging with hot pursuers seeking pleasure and make a buck from that for a living
So it happens I know one of ‘em and she one of my friends
She’s from the inner circle but one time in her history she looked for amends
I got her number but have never called her for professional services
I’m too careful not to make such unworthy sacrifices
I’d rather die a virgin than feed on carcasses
Plus I ain’t a gentleman with hard principles, am just cautious
All the drama rises to its peek in the dark hours
I hear water dropping early in the morning when these bitches washing away semen and dirt in cold showers
Hard work pays good salary
Gentlemen marry young beautiful ladies without paying dowry
I’m scribbling all this shit in my diary
The title of this wonderful tool is “From Jerusalem to Calvary”
The devil my adversary, pictures on my wall paint him in my gallery
Coz girls are laying Jesus down and driving nails in his hands
Putting him on the cross everyday, the devil got consistent fans.
When I heard cries of pleasure yesterday
The funeral committee is busy collecting money to send the bodies home on Saturday
Life ain’t harsh, its just dormancy of the rational element
So we let our lives be driven by the appetitive element
The house has been marked red by the angel of death from the Egypt days
Death is inevitable, niggaz perish like sand in a windy day
The business is thriving coz these women take AntiRectroviralTablets
So their bodies swell like pigs grown out from piglets
Be careful while crossing this street
You might meet a hooker, and be swept by temptations then go n hit
the shit out of em bitch
Latch em pants tight better go n snitch
But ‘em hookers? Damn! You are digging yourself a ditch!
The hooker-friend still rollin with me, I gotta warn her or sense-inflict
I don’t give a damn even if it’ll spark a conflict
But the house, dawg, stay away from it
Coz the harlot you’re takin to the slaughterhouse might just turn out to be your ticket to death!
Don’t roll on this avenue when the time is overdue
When I meet with you nigga I’ll see rogue in you!
Last Man Standing
You gotta identify me ma DNA structure real G
So aerial like a satellite, my thoughts seek refuge in ma rhymes like a refugee
Pacing in the game with my skills so skeptical with those lame
They swam in this river endin up drowning with fame
Kenji rollin up street heavy duty beats for real Gs to rhyme with
Real rappers stand up spread your voice out take that rhythm n flow with
One hit wonders wondering, their skills just slumbering
Nobody wants esteem lowering
Usually am calm like windless atmosphere
My industrial niche xylaws-phere, it’s hot in here
Some just wear casually endin up casualties
Not that they fashion less, it’s the highness of their quantities dumbness in their qualities
It’s the war against rap impunity that’ll save hip hop and its royalties
Word on the street I spit loyal that’s why am still focal on point
Wisdom acquired thru God’s angels around me, my lyricism is not to blame on joint
Am socking with pleasure, my groupie n fans to treasure
Feelin weightless holding this gadget with every increase in pressure
With this craziest tune my soul swimming in leisure
My flow sicker than flu
My rap goes deeper than you
You can’t be in your senses when Generah sensing numbness like liquor in you
Stand up for the street, street kings stinging with hits
We living up like phototropism, the light flashin with hints
Am the finest,, xy laws’ highness
Generah’s right man, hip hop’s brightest
With this cloud with no smoke just angels with wings riding
The scene redesigning, harsh becomes sour, niggas letting go on the last hour
Traffic flooding with nagging
Hope goes silent, marking the way dark n blinding
Only the strong surviving
With all this shit overlapping
Many chocked in the middle of the game but am your last man standing!!!
