DEFENDER'S RAP

• As I creep through these streets laced with land mines and innuendo
• These zombies sleep to the beat, stuck in the game like it’s Nintendo
• And I’ve been broke but I still wrote this dope shit ‘til my pen croaked
• The rhymes tile in mind, filling space like Roger Penrose
• It’s sickening how despicably quickly back-stabbers stick you so deeply
• I take my kick-it off repeat
• Configure slicker trigger mechanisms to defeat
• The malevolent, prevalent ignorance in those we meet
• My prose replete with subtleties like smoke bubbling
• As I take my bong-hit of chronic I’m struggling
• To hold it in, rubbing stubble on chin
• Juggling words with a pen, coughing and choking again
• Spitting into the wind, chilling
• weekends and new beginnings
• The anorexic lexicon of these rap icons has gone on too long
• It’s like they text their songs
• My intoxicating logic hits the brain like hypoxia clouding your thoughts and ya cracking
• Your vocabulary’s lacking and I’m verbally smacking your lazy styles off the mattress
• I yell WAKE UP, you fell off like you stay drunk, slip, trip on words where you lay, stuck
• My flow is tight like new kicks laced up, your random tantrum smears your make-up
• You left stage, tail between legs, skunked, I caught vapors off the haters who knew that they stunk
• And I’m stoned to the bone off this bud chunk