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Archive for August, 2017

gman-park-jam2
Ever since I was a knobby headed snotty kid
with sloppy clothes & slob appearance
shoddy lyrics potty mouth and not committed 
I could hear it 
poppin on those rocker boxes
toppling my body parts & going partly non-responsive
rappin was the hottest topic.
party where the cops are watching 
bombing up the parking lots & 
watching where the heads are noddin
hoppin scotch & double dutchin
droppin stuff & now we got them Otterboxes.
rhyming to the 1 & 2’in
movin you to groove upon it
beats & rhymes the reason I
am still at school in afternoons
people’s trunks are open, showing off the volume how u doin’
speakers bumpin, tweeters knockin
all the parks are live & poppin.
kick a few to blow your socks 
stepping to the baddest boxing
miniscule to mighty oxen
moccasins are bitin often 
spitting fuel that’s raw & toxic.
interview the mind of Spock &
watch a couple dreads unlocking
picking up what I am droppin
corner stone to corner coffin.
mamas in their rollers on the porches 
babies in pajamas
ladies in their finest, sun is shinin
bring it back to basics, place it in the perfect timing.
girl is fine & guys are trying to get attention spitting rhymes
or showing off their newest tapes to make ’em say “Oh where’d you find it?”
I been on my grind & steady shinin’ back in ’89
you see me pressin play and often pausing, pushing fast rewinding
fat was fly & fresh was nice, enticing every rap device
& dicing out the fairest slice on any brand of stereo types
I carry no hype but keep it tight in spite of other rapper’s reps
eventually I’ll meet my match although hasn’t happened yet
I’m trackin the way that back in the day the music used to pack a wallop
fattest laces wrapping through Adidas leather woven eyelets
double deck cassette recorder equalizer radio waves
can bring the sun from out the clouds and freshen up the rainier days
remember back when we was young and fun was all we was about
before a bunch of hyper active rappers started runnin’ their mouths
I wanna rebound from dumbing it down for lyricists I can’t debate
let’s take it back to breaking, making beats and shaking cans of paint
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