ChemicalBurn

DANA SCULLY

Typical over analytical Cynic
Clinically depressed
Lyrically blessed (innit)
Like a trigger that's pressed
Burstin with vigour n zest
Rehearsing to excess
It's a talent I'm blessed with
By a mental imbalance I'm restless
I pin it all for hours
Million rhymes a minute
Cos only my mind's the limit
Pinnacle of my lyrical prowess
Permanent adrenaline
Mind never stops assembling
Elephantine
Excellent rhymes
Hell of a line (right?)
But it's a menace
A stock that's never replenished
Can't condemn it
Soon as I think it I've got to pen it
A mental pandemic
No treatment from no doctor or chemist
As fast as its written its thought
Lyrics ever rich in onslaught
The clock is tickin it's gone nought
3 rhymes can I make it one more?
The words are kickin like jean Claude
Got the verses on board
And the rhymes are flyin like concord

Doesn't make sense to me
Giving identities
To these nonentities
They'll go to world's end to be famous
Forever chasing that A-list
So many cheap imitations
None of em wash
Seeking invitations
To Jonathan Ross
N celebrity juice
Where's your integrity youth?
Anything for infamy
I would take great pleasure killin em
But forget how the press're billin em
She's an A-lister instantly
Because she shows her chest to millions
She's a glorified porn star
And forget Q gave this chump's album 4-stars
He doesn't even know what chords are
There's no such thing as born stars
Just press-whores hungry for sports cars

Never ending cluster of rhymes
As many as I can muster at a time
I'll keep goin til I rupture my mind
But I'll never be recognised
Undoubtedly second prize
Forever to those who butcher a verse
Rhyming "bed" with "head"
And their structure is worse
Second grade chumps
Who can only rhyme a word once
Just the second line with the first
Take Professor Green
That guy is laughable
And have you ever seen
A face more smash-able?
I don't know how the hell you're signed
You'd be hard pushed to find
A bloke as talentless
Is that nasal voice supposed to hide your lacklustre rhymes?
Tryin to be Plan B you're closer to Busta Rhymes
Hmm...musta hurt, that
But not as much as the fact
That I can sit back tonight
As you lyrically soak yourself in paraffin
And set your talentless ass alight
Cos it's ineffably embarassin
Every word you spit at the mic
Cos right now you're on top of it
But in the time it takes to pop a zit
You'll be the opposite
When they realise you're a crock o' s**t
So while the gettin's hot
Before your profession's lost
Maybe try n invest in stocks
Because when professin' stops
And you're sellin' vests n socks
And window dressin' stock
And chavs ask for your autograph
Will you be sure to laugh?
I'm guessin' not

ChemicalBurn

She's got a degree
But she ain't got double D's
So there ain't a lot to see
It's no unique skirt you see
Have you had a lobotomy?!
Three years at university
And you've got the nerve to be
"I can't be arsed with that sh*t tar
Another daft spl*t arse
Women are only g*sh, t*ts, arse
Unless she's on page ten
Of FHM
With an ample breast
I couldn't give two sh*ts"
And this is the example set
Knuckle draggers with mouths the size of Mick Jagger's
And brains the size of toothpicks
So you go to an interview
And the boss is either into you
And you get the job cos you've got a set of pins
Or he gives it a man even though he knows you deserve it instead of him
Cos he's another "women are all skets n sh*t"
And "this is a bloke's job, stick to being a receptionist"
All medias are inundated
With women being discriminated
Against, I don't know how women take it
How hasn't oppression been eliminated?
Give me a good reason why women are hated
And can you rectify
Why women are objectified
At every turn
And there's no concern?

I could tell you one or two things
Actually quite a few things
About those mags that sl*gs show their boobs in
Constant bombardment
Of women in their undergarments
It's a nuisance
They're too thin
N make young girls do things
That are detrimental
To their health
Both physical and mental
These girls starve themselves
Unaware the women in their underwear
Or practically showing their bare bush
Are photoshopped and airbrushed
Real women aren't centrefolds
And they don't bend or fold
They f***in stick to their guns
Not being just a pair of t*ts or a ****
The mindset that that's all a woman is is comical
The difference between a man and a woman is purely anatomical
Women's components are astronomical
Not just confined to genitals
It all comes down to appendages and chemicals
That, and dresses and bras
That sets us apart
It's a shame it's only few instead of millions
That share this opinion
But I guess it's a start
The weaker sex is a farce

Man progresses in leaps n bounds
But women? they're still tryin to keep em down
And when you're drivin round
And there's one in a dress
And you wind your window down
I'm sure she's over the moon that you're interest is peaked
And you're so impressed you peeped
Bullsh*t!
I'm sure your mother was a loving woman
Never neglectful
Taught you to be respectful
And this is all the decency you can summon?
And wouldn't your mother be horrified
To see how at every turn
You try and make your manager squirm?
Even though she's highly qualified
But you're like "f***you"!"
How dare a woman try to instruct you!
"This is a man's world, she doesn't get a look in
Unless it's washin, ironin or cookin"
Women MP's but we've only had one woman PM
What, like figures of power can only be men?
And your eligibility depends
On how much weight you can bench?
Bullsh*t!
N yeah don't get me wrong you think I don't see kelly brook and foam at the mouth?
Think I don't have pictures of her on my phone with em out?
And they probably aren't even legal
The things I'd do to holly Willoughby
But I don't have an inability
To see a woman as equal
I don't look in a woman's eyes and see "sket" in em
And I'm not less of a man cos I respect women
I'm a f***in real man n we're all people

ChemicalBurn

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