Poetry competition CLOSED 30th March 2014 2:43pm
WINNER
TLIFD (Rope)
TLIFD (Rope)
RUNNER-UP:
jamesvan7
Rap Battle
Shichibukai,
we've yet to meet.
But now's your fate
and your defeat.
You're correct when stating,
these back-dating
other so called poets
with their rhyme formatting
concludes to a piss poor
amateur rating,
with childish charms
which need debating.
I'd assume my rhymes superior.
Contenders are inferior
without much hope get wearier
A tad like kids in Syria.
A controversial case is due!
Thought provoker? Oh! Get you!
My arrogant ways have reason to
think twice about shit on my shoe.
The shoe with shit is just like you!
Plants may like it, I'd give two
pennies in exchange to woo
the bees to buds and petals too!
My lyrics are fed,
to the damned and dead
I can't really sing them
So I rap them instead.
Turn my sorrows into joy,
reply to this, so I can toy
with words to crown me king of rap
Your face with a wet fish I'll slap...
we've yet to meet.
But now's your fate
and your defeat.
You're correct when stating,
these back-dating
other so called poets
with their rhyme formatting
concludes to a piss poor
amateur rating,
with childish charms
which need debating.
I'd assume my rhymes superior.
Contenders are inferior
without much hope get wearier
A tad like kids in Syria.
A controversial case is due!
Thought provoker? Oh! Get you!
My arrogant ways have reason to
think twice about shit on my shoe.
The shoe with shit is just like you!
Plants may like it, I'd give two
pennies in exchange to woo
the bees to buds and petals too!
My lyrics are fed,
to the damned and dead
I can't really sing them
So I rap them instead.
Turn my sorrows into joy,
reply to this, so I can toy
with words to crown me king of rap
Your face with a wet fish I'll slap...
Interesting point,
I see where you're from
please to meet you, call me 'Dom'
or Dominic depending on
your formal or informal song.
This won't take long,
A small critique
Your rhymes are far too hard to speak
perhaps because they don't make sense
or your lines became too dense.
Not with factual points as such
But maybe something French or Dutch
Do you speak my language?
I'm unsure!
Your rhymes are more or less a bore...
I see where you're from
please to meet you, call me 'Dom'
or Dominic depending on
your formal or informal song.
This won't take long,
A small critique
Your rhymes are far too hard to speak
perhaps because they don't make sense
or your lines became too dense.
Not with factual points as such
But maybe something French or Dutch
Do you speak my language?
I'm unsure!
Your rhymes are more or less a bore...
Welcome to this meet and greet!
From the street? Please, take a seat
The road of words is far too 'ghetto'
I think my self a little silhouetto
of a man with far more words to state
Please join in, participate!
Pretentious cockney rhyming slang
I'll knock them out all with a bang
consisting of my intellect
I'll slice them up, and then dissect
Their little stupid, dead remarks
That come across as helpless barks
Of a dying breed of pup
Don't hurt yourself, your time is up!
From the street? Please, take a seat
The road of words is far too 'ghetto'
I think my self a little silhouetto
of a man with far more words to state
Please join in, participate!
Pretentious cockney rhyming slang
I'll knock them out all with a bang
consisting of my intellect
I'll slice them up, and then dissect
Their little stupid, dead remarks
That come across as helpless barks
Of a dying breed of pup
Don't hurt yourself, your time is up!
I’m at work right now,
but it ain’t my profession,
man this group of “writers” really needs a grammar lesson.
You’re and your, are not the same.
You’re dumb as fuck,
your grammar sucks.
You stumble over language,
your rhymes are badly damaged.
My eyes have opened, never jokin, when I’m flowin
levees break.
You’ll get a soakin, then be croakin, I’m provoking
you to wake.
In my flow I am adrift
Ever got the green,
call me coniferous.
You ,Green Creep, the barren bitch
of this dying breed
of which
you speak
but it ain’t my profession,
man this group of “writers” really needs a grammar lesson.
You’re and your, are not the same.
You’re dumb as fuck,
your grammar sucks.
You stumble over language,
your rhymes are badly damaged.
My eyes have opened, never jokin, when I’m flowin
levees break.
You’ll get a soakin, then be croakin, I’m provoking
you to wake.
In my flow I am adrift
Ever got the green,
call me coniferous.
You ,Green Creep, the barren bitch
of this dying breed
of which
you speak
Here twist the lines
Cause they sharp like lazzer barbwire
You feeling yourself to much
You still a kid,need not take off the gloves
Guess your ranting is facing extinction
And you come to me for salvation
I will pay you attention
Don't got time ,send your concsiense
To the nothingness
If you read what I have wrote
You think this Man sold his soul
Twisting your realty
And before you done scheming
Door bell ringing
Deaths touch
To what you hold close
Slow pain , call your death a rhyme over dose
Whack ,cricket bat
And you the projectile
It seems ,you writing lacks style
Way to dull,we can tell
I thought it was some kind of conspiracy
Me up against some Artificial Intelligence
Before you get cocky
Take a step back ....start realising
You Mr Hackney
Calculating
You worthy
To hold my snotty hanky
Ahh my boy you not even witty
You just a mimic
Vesions of money and jewlery
All this time you wasting
Individual mind,yet mob mentality
That's why ,you can try battling
But you know victory ant no option
Cause I cover all angles,hence compelete domination
I hope I cured your hunger puppy
Or in the back yard you can get buried
Letting all you beasts
Know,I practice beastly cruelty
You barely can take me
I am out of your league
Strap up and go play "sheild
And justice league"
You from the streets
I'm sorry indeed
But this ant the time ,to seek
Sympathy from me
Its rogues wolverine and superman on teams
trampling
The sickly and healthy ,both going to get killed
I figured out why you so angry
(Assuming)
Firstly,you don't know Mary
(factually stating)
Secondly you can't stop shavering
You know every word is placed cleverly
And the worst thing is you are handed the responsibility
Of denouncing ,its worth
Each time denying ,it hurts
burns,
Makes your belly turn
But like the old catholic
Discarding sacred knowledge
"somebody got to do it"
Cause they sharp like lazzer barbwire
You feeling yourself to much
You still a kid,need not take off the gloves
Guess your ranting is facing extinction
And you come to me for salvation
I will pay you attention
Don't got time ,send your concsiense
To the nothingness
If you read what I have wrote
You think this Man sold his soul
Twisting your realty
And before you done scheming
Door bell ringing
Deaths touch
To what you hold close
Slow pain , call your death a rhyme over dose
Whack ,cricket bat
And you the projectile
It seems ,you writing lacks style
Way to dull,we can tell
I thought it was some kind of conspiracy
Me up against some Artificial Intelligence
Before you get cocky
Take a step back ....start realising
You Mr Hackney
Calculating
You worthy
To hold my snotty hanky
Ahh my boy you not even witty
You just a mimic
Vesions of money and jewlery
All this time you wasting
Individual mind,yet mob mentality
That's why ,you can try battling
But you know victory ant no option
Cause I cover all angles,hence compelete domination
I hope I cured your hunger puppy
Or in the back yard you can get buried
Letting all you beasts
Know,I practice beastly cruelty
You barely can take me
I am out of your league
Strap up and go play "sheild
And justice league"
You from the streets
I'm sorry indeed
But this ant the time ,to seek
Sympathy from me
Its rogues wolverine and superman on teams
trampling
The sickly and healthy ,both going to get killed
I figured out why you so angry
(Assuming)
Firstly,you don't know Mary
(factually stating)
Secondly you can't stop shavering
You know every word is placed cleverly
And the worst thing is you are handed the responsibility
Of denouncing ,its worth
Each time denying ,it hurts
burns,
Makes your belly turn
But like the old catholic
Discarding sacred knowledge
"somebody got to do it"
Anonymous
On Rap Today
I hung around this place for a minute
chewing on the thoughts of microwave chefs
ate alphabet soup fronted as something real
from a flock of sheep tagged as something else
but once upon a time
back in the day
rap meant something
back when black plus poverty
always equaled nothing
when they were taking brothers
out to Vietnam
planting crack in the ghettos
giving syphilis to inmates
filling the hood with bastards
and rape victims
back then a voice was everything
and the words were fertilized in passion
fermented in injustice and spat so hard
so honest
they traveled the world
and changed minds
opened eyes
and for a while
hip hop artists weren't pre-selected
from profiles that auction best on radio
they used to say something
when I hear some joker
who'd have been too stupid to rhyme
in the real days
spit out a rant on his gold, his ho's
his dick and his wallet
I know that somewhere in the Bronx
another ghost just shivered
spirits of artists who took music
and mixed in poetic spills on reality
and said something
back when it meant something
to change everything
I hung around this place for a minute
chewing on the thoughts of microwave chefs
ate alphabet soup fronted as something real
from a flock of sheep tagged as something else
but once upon a time
back in the day
rap meant something
back when black plus poverty
always equaled nothing
when they were taking brothers
out to Vietnam
planting crack in the ghettos
giving syphilis to inmates
filling the hood with bastards
and rape victims
back then a voice was everything
and the words were fertilized in passion
fermented in injustice and spat so hard
so honest
they traveled the world
and changed minds
opened eyes
and for a while
hip hop artists weren't pre-selected
from profiles that auction best on radio
they used to say something
when I hear some joker
who'd have been too stupid to rhyme
in the real days
spit out a rant on his gold, his ho's
his dick and his wallet
I know that somewhere in the Bronx
another ghost just shivered
spirits of artists who took music
and mixed in poetic spills on reality
and said something
back when it meant something
to change everything
A voice is still everything.
The nation’s NOT on an upswing,
it’s time for an American Spring.
At the “elite” we need to swing, a fist
But once upon a time, today, they are locking brothers up solely for the profit
and they demonize renewable energy for benefits economic.
They convince the tired, poor huddled masses
that they can share in this life extravagant.
But the social lie still exists, the religious lie continues to live and
human opinions of others is what it twists.
Words are planted by passion but fertilized by doubt.
If you think real meaning in hip-hop is gone, then you should logout.
Real hip-hoppers know gold and hos aint what it’s about.
Don’t let “rappers” shove beliefs down your throat like food down their mouth.
There are surely ghosts shivering, that have been burned to a crisp,
wishing they could go back to the inferno in those brox cribs
and make it bigger so we don’t so easily forget.
But we’ve got everything twisted.
You rap about how rap sucks and these “rap” fans want to listen.
Why? Who knows, but somebody’s gotta hate.
You’re just as fake as them, so I guess you can relate.
You ignore the good, and are in love with the bad shit,
how many soulja boys have made you hate this rap shit?
How many sheltered suburban kids have been spittin up bad that shit?
How many passionless, actors or rappers are grads? shit.
You mean fuck these marginalized individuals?
Conditioned to believe rapping or ballin
is their only way to make miracles?
No way can they go to college and still rap about the sad shit.
You’re just as gullible as main stream fans, just admit
that you love to transmit your hate for the whack shit.
You mention the passion needed for fertile soil
well what about the hatred and marginalization that they toil in?
You call these people pre-selected from the radio “hip hop artists”
that just shows you don’t understand what the art is.
You seem to speak about the tygas, young jocs and waka flocka flames,
but you’re missin out on real truth speakers babe.
Immortal technique, K Dot, Dizzy Wright, they make TRUE claims.
And they are fanning the flames
of those burned in the Bronx and those sold government crack rocks.
You sound like you believe hip hop is dead and decomposing in nature
I’m tryna save hip hop but you’re just next in line to rape her.
The nation’s NOT on an upswing,
it’s time for an American Spring.
At the “elite” we need to swing, a fist
But once upon a time, today, they are locking brothers up solely for the profit
and they demonize renewable energy for benefits economic.
They convince the tired, poor huddled masses
that they can share in this life extravagant.
But the social lie still exists, the religious lie continues to live and
human opinions of others is what it twists.
Words are planted by passion but fertilized by doubt.
If you think real meaning in hip-hop is gone, then you should logout.
Real hip-hoppers know gold and hos aint what it’s about.
Don’t let “rappers” shove beliefs down your throat like food down their mouth.
There are surely ghosts shivering, that have been burned to a crisp,
wishing they could go back to the inferno in those brox cribs
and make it bigger so we don’t so easily forget.
But we’ve got everything twisted.
You rap about how rap sucks and these “rap” fans want to listen.
Why? Who knows, but somebody’s gotta hate.
You’re just as fake as them, so I guess you can relate.
You ignore the good, and are in love with the bad shit,
how many soulja boys have made you hate this rap shit?
How many sheltered suburban kids have been spittin up bad that shit?
How many passionless, actors or rappers are grads? shit.
You mean fuck these marginalized individuals?
Conditioned to believe rapping or ballin
is their only way to make miracles?
No way can they go to college and still rap about the sad shit.
You’re just as gullible as main stream fans, just admit
that you love to transmit your hate for the whack shit.
You mention the passion needed for fertile soil
well what about the hatred and marginalization that they toil in?
You call these people pre-selected from the radio “hip hop artists”
that just shows you don’t understand what the art is.
You seem to speak about the tygas, young jocs and waka flocka flames,
but you’re missin out on real truth speakers babe.
Immortal technique, K Dot, Dizzy Wright, they make TRUE claims.
And they are fanning the flames
of those burned in the Bronx and those sold government crack rocks.
You sound like you believe hip hop is dead and decomposing in nature
I’m tryna save hip hop but you’re just next in line to rape her.
