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MM rap cypher

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This rhyming stuff is getting to my head. :mellow: Ok, last one for today. Warning: It gets kinda depressing towards the end (life expectancy, 70 something average years) :P




Writeous got rap down like it's his native tongue

almost like a reflex, you're not finished thinking,

and he's already done

he got more words than your dictionary

his words more vivid than pictionary

so real it might get a lil scary

and guess what, he gets it all down on stationary

his words are deep and well thought out

if you think he's on his high horse, give the benefit of the doubt

people might put that evil eye on so he can't win

so he reads his du'as before he turns in

sure he has average 70 something years on his clock

but he always got this rap game on lock.



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Qurrat mentions my talents even when im absent-

Some might say I'm arrogant, but rhyme is another language-

Another form to communicate, a vast vocab I accumulate-

I leave no chance for debate but Qurrat's verse I sincerely appreciate-

But I try not to let things get to my head, arrogance is not my intent-

I've worked hard for respect even from those who find me suspect-

I mentioned before my poems grow like crops, and I got more props than Carrot Top-

My problem is I'm new to this place, where everyone looks funny at a new face-

And I wish 70 was the case but men in my family typically die at 40 years of age-

But thats just more motivation to keep rhyming and maintaining-

Stay on my deen cause otherwise its time that im wasting-



Ohh and thanks so much Qurrat I really appreciate it alot :D

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Mashallah, some good stuff y'all. so I guess the topics changed to 'writeous' eh?



Since he was a kid everybody was feeling him like they were catholic,

he had the kind of raps that made you want to bust a gat to it,

every bar perfectly crafted so the message is just immaculate,

you could ask anybody in Brooklyn, who owns these cyphers?

everybody, everytime will tell you ofcourse it's writeous,

he could spit more deadly venom than a whole pit of vipers,

and my Brother has found his deen so now he raps islamically,

walking through the earth awake now, he spits consciously,

and he praise Allah for every breath that he takes, obviously.

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Let this Enlightened Kid cypher-in,

Tooled with the Iron-tipped lead that I’m writing with,

My mind is drilled open; rhymes will spill,

Can you decipher the life I live? Hieroglyphs,

Remember the School days,

Lunchtime Hallway; All day my friends were lighting spliffs,

But I never smoked the bud,

Because the Lord cloaked my lungs with Diamond ribs,

You could never melt my frame; I hold the Sun,

No need for molten gloves,

Forbid the Evil and flow the Haqq until I’m soaked in blood,

Drenched in Red ink,

Cleft your brethren, entrance and exit wounds with a pen tip,

I’m ‘illness’; I can’t be disinfected,

Head spins, breathe slips through a slit neck with my chest ripped,

6 feet beneath I’m left,

Should have lived and let live, but it’s too late because now I’m a Dead Kid...

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wow!!!! that was awesoeme

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wow!!!! that was awesoeme

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