Wednesday, January 28, 2009

What if Weezy Freestyled like this...(Poem)

My rhymes are sick like Sub-Saharan Africa,
I got the game on lock,
like black males in America.
My skills tight like the clothes 13 year old girls be wearing that have them looking like they twice their age.
I got you looking at my shine like those men look at her that are twice her age.
See I spit hot fire,
like the STD epidemic in our hoods,
and I'm big on the underground like Jena Six and other lynchings in the Southern back woods.
If my rhymes were dope,
they would be a kilo for every chick that signs along with "B*tch" like "He ain't talking about me though..."
or every half oz of trees these little dude carry around selling hoping to be like their hero,
You know T.I., Wayne and Jeezy,
and I got love for them niggas,
cause they hold us down,
that's why a nigga that shines and rhymes like me is always going to be around.
See I got fans like old elderly people dying from the heat in South, G - A.
I got these niggas dying like Hip Hop, A Bay Bay.
See I keeps it real, like I keeps the gun to my head with my finger on the trigga,
I'm not trying to go mainstream like the word "Nigga."

And I don't care how many parties you plan or how many niggas show up wearing something "nice" if you think you are helping black folks just think twice. In places we never see, where the door is closed to you and me, because of every fashion show, step show, and nigga that shows up to class with a gold grill, dreads and a mix tape they will never take us seriously! Entertainment is alright, but being crunk and staying crunk was never win the fight. As a culture we aren't close to being right. So when you listen to these niggas talking about their diamonds on glo, remember there is more to the world, a lot mo!

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