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Post by fzahn on Dec 18, 2010 20:26:34 GMT -5
A mix of passion and lyrical skills, False spoken threats, and lyrics that kill
Mind states coincide where emotions of love die And meaning for existence and nothingness collides
Broke hearts found in those that no longer cry A false feeling of content in those who no longer try
A single mom, a hustler, or a kid on his grind A small room of broke poets just speaking their mind
They rhyme dope like kilos, quarters, nickels, and dimes Addiction ridden listeners fed in endless supply
A child’s heart beat replaced with the thump of a base A blank album cover held up to cover their face
See music is more than the sex, glamour, and how many sold It’s plastics that stayed hidden because they never went gold
A swag surf, or a dance song never got me through nights A requisition of lacked love filled when you dim down the lights
It’s the ballad of couple dads beating on lunch tables About how their family makes them smile, but support them they’re not able
Amidst worries of future and regrets of the past Time faded to the thought of that which can no longer last
We flow in a low state and use pain as a booster Then write all night until we’re waking the rooster
Too hard to go on—too far to go back A thousand mile journey with some tattered clothes and a soundtrack
It’s just rap.
---Fzahn
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