deepundergroundpoetry.com

A Fine Line

I'm crossing the line between insanity and genius
Lyrically I'm the epitome of a cocky MC
F***ing your ears with my penis
Elected officials can see this
That's why they look to me to achieve this
And best believe this is a world of extremists
That are headed to the top with radical visions
I got more rhymes than the President vetoes sexual decisions
The same questions are constantly asked
They promise you change
Then stab you in your back
Like fiends smoking crack
Keeping track on their trippin
The middle class is gone
How the f**k are we livin?
Just be a law abiding citizen
In a world where price outweighs life?
And not many listen?
You figure out the division
We are pawns in a game
So choose your strategy wisely
Making moves like Matt Murdock
Kicking a*s blindly
They say there's a devil in hells kitchen
Fighting our wars
So that we can be livin
At the same time painting a picture so vivid
The next form of the Messiah Complex
The next crook to get it
In a beat 'em to a pulp contest
If I'd tell you about the future
I'd be like the movie Looper
Going back to change the past
In a cold world with hot intensions
Like a dirty cop home on suspension
I'm making batter out of matter
Making people fatter to cater to mass appeal
A generation of imbeciles swallowin pills
On the Iron Throne as the true King
I'm in the game
Like a mobster with a pinky ring
Sipping on the finest bourbon
To cure the urban hurtin
Marijuana got me for certain
Nirvana is lurkin
Inside of a daze while I'm burnin Durban Poison
Rocking Jimi Hendrix Purple Haze
You see I got plans
To devise the reprise of the dawn of man
My testament is evidence
I'm a f**king rhyme specialist
It's a technique that I use to infuse my brain
Eradicate the space
Full potential to create
Resonate resonance
Feel the chill consume
Only time will tell if the hunger will resume
Conceive thoughts that prevent loss
Complications of indecision
Will drive the human mind to oblivion
The pulse rate is like a signal of light
It indicates the user of its own shelf life
If dead men can walk and spirits can haunt
God is not what I thought
Hell is on Earth and heaven is just a place
Where souls can talk and contemplate
I stand alone on a warpath
Fueled by social media chats
A broadcast of cr*p
Maybe I am too conscious
In a certain shade of garbage
To play this game of con artists
You have to be the smartest
Written by Prometheus86 (Justin)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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