WATERMARK
I'm fixing my addiction
My addiction is sensory
My brain the dispensary
A vault of rhymes, that's all the time
Firing on all cylinders
Permanently killin verse
A million words
Is Quite the cacophony
But it helps me fight the monotony
Can't keep the energy
Under lock n key
No kinda penitentiary
Can keep these rhymes from gettin free
Exploding like dynamite with its fuse lit
Cos often times, It feels like I'm
The only one who knows decent music
And the days of talented rhymes
Are simply forgotten times
It's just random rhymes from aggressive misogynists
That kinda gimmick gets monotonous
You can't slander a sex
Cause we have balls n them breasts
The idea is for your verses to be cohesive
Not 20 lines laden with expletives
Sentences look like you've sat on a keyboard
I'll oblige you if you need more
I'll happily reel off the metaphors
Can't downplay a whole gender and expect applause
Ever tried the approach of "women are respectable instead o' whores"?
Thought not: try grammar lessons
And music that appeals to more
Than uneducated adolescents
Is that all this twat musters?
Who would even pay 10 cents to see
Poor theatrics n rap butchered?
I could pick up ten cd's
And hear the same crap structures
The same lacklustre
Lack of immensity
You call this crap "intensity"?
I'll take you ****s to the nth degree
Cos unlike You my every sentence
Doesn't have to mention
Cliche of handguns, nines
Like all of your verses end in
For the record: the whole guns n threats?
It's been ****in done to death
Another yank who packs a nine
Same mother****in pantomime
Thinks he's the ****, but he just spits
A bunch o' random rhymes
Don't even come close to this stance o' mine
Don't know the difference between bland & sublime
Another wannabe disappears between the sands o' time
Twenty variations on cuss words
More o' this "I played a ho & ****ed her"
If you stop & think a sec
Try your hand at lyrical structure
You might possess a shred of Intellect
And make a half decent rapper
Try using real grown up words
And choose an original subject matter
Leave out the bitches and the ganja leaf
And drop the act & own up first
You ain't no crime lord so cut the gangsta speak
What happened to people's vocabs?
People's lyrics are so bad
They're cringeworthy
If I paid money I'd demand em
Reimburse me
It's devoid of linguistics
Rookie-grade simplistic
Where's lyrical prowess and complexity?
Yawn: more sex n weed
You sound like teens who've been raised on limp bizkit
Even if I was willin to stop
I couldn't turn all cylinders off
Cos my words are like bullets
Bullets I chew on like spearmints
Manufactured posers, Man I'm sick o seein em
With their lyrics the kinda quality you could buy from B&M
A disaster not covered by CNN
But MTV, what is this meant to be?
I can't believe what I'm hearin
What do women see in them?
Now, I remember bein 10
But by now they should be seein sense
Even if the words were written by ed Sheeran
This wouldn't sound good after 20 beers n
The video n photo shoots u see em in
Overload my overspillin vehemence
Who wants this
To see this mong strip?
Who the ****'s this blonde stick?
Those talentless ****s have reunited?!
And people are actually excited?
I can't believe that people buy this
Excuse my lack of enthusiasm
But these ****s need blastin 9or10 Uzis at em
If only someone had a set of balls
And blessed us all
With such exceptional
Rhymes and still be accessible
Nowadays its somehow acceptable
To look a spectacle
And the masses are so susceptible
To these overrated vegetables
How are these artists? let alone credible?
Why would you pay incredible
Amounts to go to a festival
To see a whole bunch 'f em
Unless you have good reason to suspect it'll
Feature a fatal malfunction
Either pyrotechnic or electrical?l
**** this