Tuesday, July 24, 2007

Circa 2005.

For rap I raise the bar,
like I lifted a pub,
these alley cats,
I turn my back,
and they show me no love,
I speak rhythm,
scream dreams,
throw a wasp,
nigga you could never Be(e) me,
like doe, they need (knead) me,
but I give 'em what they want,
still, they cut Mo's Day short like black history month,
been leavin' niggas faces scrunched up,
lunch bags,
it's dumb luck if I make it,
got the odds stacked against me like I'm next to un-evens,
that's what they want, huh?
so you see who I'm amongst, the,
cold iced out, hip-stir strut,
but, I still choose to live now,
and occasionally take an over shoulder glance back,
when I set the books down,
next to Jordan 13's,
with two pairs of Nike socks to the knees,
my dude rockin' with me,
to boombox after 3,
before practice,
so crackers I refuse to ass-kiss,
fuck you and the game,
I'm the score keeper dude,
on the scoreboard,
above the game,
so I work like I really need the money,
laugh like I never heard of funny,
love like I've never been hurt,
live like it's heaven on earth,
stay hungry like I've never eaten,
spit like nobody hears me when I'm speakin',
for the "food" is the reason,
I already been through cheatin',
robbed thieves,
thieved pirates,
as they stared at they're eyelids,
I stole from a man who's favorite hand he was dealt every time,
I still stand!
That's why you sense a change in my voice,
as if it came with a choice,
knocked down,
but I remain very poised.

--Mo Day

We come from, pissy hallways and cracked drywall,
graffiti painted faces of fallen rap stars, eyes blinded
light cause we're accustomed to the dark police pressin
us so hard we got to iron out the starch, we fall behind we
end where they start niggas' tryin to
assemble but have been given wrong parts, fuck, who are they
foolin? I see it very clear, rappers pollutin' minds so I'm bringin
fresh air, I make love to drums and fuck the snare, give birth to
words, it's like heaven to the ear, this is masterful music, blues
minus acoustic, blood, sweat, tears, pain produced this, liquor
and weed just massacred their mind, I'm spittin out my soul,
so my life is undefined, paralyzin' words that are soon to hit the
spine leave a tingle in you're back causin' you to stay behind

--Joshy Marbles

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