“Yo I got, guns…

“Yo I got, guns from Italy, smoke trees, considerably
Mid-state and Green it seems, is where all my n***** be
The ghetto misery, shootouts and liquor stores
A perpendicular, angle of the clout war”
-Nas

One of the greatest raps ever from Nasir Jones, better known as Escobar, Nas Escobar or the King of Rap Nasty Nas. Nas is the greatest

The Plight and The Fury (POEM)

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Fingers covered in ink, mind like a contraceptive, make the music something you can step with but don’t overdue the loops, shoot hoops with Versace boots betting on military coups whilst down in the blues.
Feeling some type of way, ready to take over

The setbacks have been severe, wondering if people still care, I’ve been going hungry no food in the house and no new clothes not no new friends, sharp razors and lose ends

But here I am still full of hope, some nights it’s hard to cope with all the potential, destroy the next phenomenon and then burn all that’s sentimental, because I’m invading kindle because my words are mentally ill, went to private hospital but couldn’t pay the bill and I went to a graveyard with time to kill

Even Still, I’m not who I used to be before, ruthless as I fit the bill, ready to die, ready to kill

Not a man around who can stop me, not a plan that’s sound that would drop me. The sick part is that I’m not that bad, I whine about what I had, cry for my dad but nothing to be ashamed of

They mock me and threaten to give me a slug, but they are just bugs slightly perpendicular to the whole I dug, lots of crud and lots of bullshit, sometimes my brain is on empty but the ideas flooded just won’t fit

Sometimes I scream so the angels will carry me away

God might be great be he hasn’t answered anything that I’ve said

I’m going to tell him about himself the day I die, and I’m going to create swords of every tear that I cried

Every day without electricity and going hungry, stare down the competition because my friends love me

Talking shit like my mouth was a toilet, maybe I never knew who I was enough to even kill myself, food for thought so don’t spoil it

Mad decent on wheels but we have to constantly oil it

 

And this is my ambition, shaking so much that you think I had a condition

But it’s anger repeating in repetition

Been rejected to so many times, hated and disliked

To the death I’m sick, write pieces with ice picks

Before I sat where I sit, I was an distorted animal something like a bull pit

Pressured to throw in the paw and quit

But now I’m trending like a Twitter fit

Roll my eyes into the back of my head while throwing up signs with my deformed fingers
Throwing pitches and this one is a sinker, but as my product falls to dirt there are so many things I need to say  but I don’t know how

I’m in my zone but I don’t know how far I’m allowed, but don’t kill my mojo

Might not be the best but I’m banging my chest

More hyped then the rest, humbed to be alive after four attempts on my life

This is the rage, depression, love and plight

Of Antony Day Grandin

Song of the Day 8/27/2013

Kanye West’s dream soaked hip hop ballad from his widely popular and award winning masterpiece Graduation, gives us a glimpse of West’s undeniable genius. Not only is he a superior producer, but he also never fails as a artist. And this was when Kanye West was focusing less on shocking audiences and more on the more technical side of hip hop. While this is by no means his best song it highlights the reaosn why such a large audience loves him. This song is about dreaming and the sweet feeling of success, something that West has felt in excess.
I can remember listening to this song when i was younger and when things were far more difficult in life. During “I Wonder” Wesst does a superb job in bringing in the audience and not allowing them to leave, not by force but just by the sheer depth of this wonderful song. The Synth and the lyrics mak you feel like if you tried hard enough, then your dreams might just be within grasp. Now we find Kanye West making songs with less and less emotional connection which has gained some fans and lost others. This song is for fans of good music (Not the Label XD) but music that is good, you dont have to be a fan of rap music to purely enjoy this gem

Life is Poetry

I stare into your eyes, mine cross

Known to cut a loss before I pivot with surprisingly advanced digits that leave the past riddled with poetry in the moss

The Cost?- I are intensive as we back up on the heels of walls that have been cautioned aprehensive, while i close my eyes in chaos to stay pensive

Describe your life in real time prophecy, like a bastard son of socrates, 2-1-2, stay prodigal sporting blood red shoes, spewing blood stained dues, battle scars that keep this genuine and true

Hold on I’ll tear shit up like my arm, street poetry built to self destruct not self harm, story of poverty and triumph, trauma and alarm

The blood dropped as the hip hopped and hearts stopped, jaw dropped, fist clenched, because when i arrived on the scene you can barely even clinch a spot on the bench

My thirst to quench, disarm the foul stench because i was raised with a vendetta to make the ice colder and the consequence better

Writing over your head and into your heart, Public Threat, Best Bet, Your last regret

I’ll leave you traumatized with your lips to pucker, punk ass motherfucker

They expect sweets like all day suckers

Carve words like bloody scripture, arrogant because i have the real big picture, failed math but i’m going to specialize in lots of zeroes, Held at gunpoint and didnt play hero, live life far beyond suicide to stay parrelel and I’m the fucking worst

My fathers knife to my throat and its a pain in the neck

Eiry mornings on the deck breathing bleak debts, swallowing harsh bets because im a guy you dont want to forget

Counting a million dollar deal, and i am what i feel

I am the leader, and i am what i believe

Fours months for something to be real, time for skin to peel, Dont crawl, I walk, And I back up each every word of the shit that i talk

Times become bleak, and it was pleasure without pain that i used to seek, but i found the world to be cheap with harshly paved streets, gloomy beats and times when you just have to look down at your feet

But there is more to life then they teach you at school, with a heart of gold and story that has been told, positive energy with a negative handgun, the demise of the progidal son, and the rise of the chosen one.

And as i hunt, the past impedes but i can say i am everything that i believe

City light free verse on a glimpse of doubt about inconsistency and I am still everything and more that i believe.

Life is poetry, so lets live in our persuasive thesis, words are biblical so lets write holy songs

Life is to long to stand on one wrong, so lets blossom together before we’re goneImage

Benadryl

(Chris)

 

A Breakthrough, to make you live with your descisions…to put you in position. Your one of us… Dottin’ COMS, droppin bombs on such a fragile system. The “Rounds” of a victim. VT to CT, and back. To know when our feelings react, with multicolored caps. Your sanity wouldn’t last, and to that we laugh. Oh the eyes of a deprived past… Cut the “highs” when physical systems collapsed.

 

 

 

(Anthony)

 

Chris and I are about to bring reality to this shit, my fear is the world is reading us crooked

 

It felt like we were waiting for decades so we took it for the dictatorship

 

I spell and pronounce the prophecy, it seems like this establishment kept its commonwealth naïve and illiterate

 

They taught them to spew out all this happy go lucky rhetoric

 

 

 

(Chris) Handling, ATAXIA to the MAX. While…Structures Keep You Trapped. With your head up high, at that. Lose the diet of meds, then fast.

 

(Anthony)

 

The macabre, I depend on it

 

Without it I’d be a happy invalid

 

Chasing Dreams that aren’t what they seem, rearrange my knuckles as I blow off steam

 

Add a dose of hate; let’s get down to the shit

 

Raise my digits quick but it’ll never be the end of it

 

 

 

(Chris) Evidence suggests that we stay away, from rat feins, who say they can Hear Our Pain. …And their brains can maintain, if we refrain, …from exposing their dreams of a higher place. So, wear the shoes of a holder to “constant change”. Feel hate, when we feel collective embrace.

 

 

 

 

 

(Anthony)

 

I was a lost soul, I lead by example

 

Bred to be a prodigy, with new souls to trample

 

I’ve got phantoms on my shoulders assembled; get side tracked by backwards emotions but I stay central

 

I’m fuckin mental

 

We swerve to the fast lane and the speed of sound stutters, we are raising prodigies

 

Brilliant oddities

 

In the distance you hear thunder

 

In my periphery

 

I sense wonder, What’s their history? Where do they come from? Why should this mean shit to me?

 

Mix double definitions of illness, a dual diagnosed calamity, Affluent in the language of insanity

 

God fucked with us, and we waited patiently, Spat modern Shakespeare in a brilliant rhyming pattern

 

If Men come from mars, then we originate from motherfucking Saturn

 

And If God is real, and then may he grant me the serenity to fuck you up

 

Let you feel the pain of the lepers

 

Let you Run out of Luck

 

 

 

(Chris) Fuck “The We”, Feed on 3 more. They contribute to a Farm-Party Of Four. Then feed the youth the main cause of war. Take a look. Fucking open your eyes. The drugged hold our streets with positive vibes. All the time. Steelys or Red Wine. Your superiors live life. Forget mine.

 

(Anthony)

 

Blame it on the Drugs, and the medicine?

 

Or the material that is made from ambition and pseudoephedrine

 

Write a Best seller without pills, well I’m dead then

 

I guess it’s cool for people to torture you half your life, domestic abuse for six years due to your own strife?

 

But Boy, you can be a born again Christian

 

My father paid his tribute, and the bullshit he will listen

 

I’ve got two brothers and mother and that’s my family

 

Chris and I are just beginning to stand tall; my father means fuck all

 

The Devil closed the door but I pick a good lock

 

I’m making six figures while getting taunted by a demon holding his Sesame street Cock?

 

I spew rhymes like rounds from a Glock, thinking about the days when my statistics were snug next to a blade in my tube sock

 

You say you feel my pain, I should be happy?

 

Are fucking stupid, or Just Daffy

 

I told you hate begets a book contract, so motherfuckers stay out of contact

 

I wrote a love poem to make up for what the world lacks

 

We hear abuse not a clap

 

This is Truth not rap

 

And I already killed cupid

 

I ostracized his wings, see you knew because you use his freshly cut ideology as your bling, you hypocrite romanticized normal thing  

 

(Chris) From the start, when sick, we sip potion. Then move on to the next forward motion. This could seem beyond my comotion. So Take A Minute and let make locomotion. …OF the word, your hopes in, a better world to loathe in, start to incline, slopin

 

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Rolling

I first strolled onto the scene with clinched fists and grinding teeth, now I’m rolling off the walls like Ketamine, I’d like to represent a mezzanine because you know my mathematics are looking great, I’m not the king of the hill because I’m snoring on a mountain of fate ready to sedate motherfuckers with my mates, tell me about violence? I’ve been killing my liver for fifteen years

They wanted to name my book the Epitome of Hopes and Fears, and they wanted me to concede but I slit my wrist for the blood sweat and tears,

feeling like nobody cared so I wanted to make things happen. Pushing books out faster than the New Haven guns are clapping, Try to triple team the best, what’s happening?

But none of this is a game to me, I write masterpieces on the weekdays and spell out symphonies on the low end, I’m off putting and so is the sequence of tens of which my salary is set to begin, watching your mother fend for herself against some vicious dogs, I’m going to snatch that mink grab those pearls, bleeding on the edge of the world, sniffing so much blow that I think I’m the curl in the comma printed on my pay raise. Crime pays, because I’ve been robbing ambition since I first walked into the room, I know they got my back even in questionable situations

All hope died of asphyxiation but I didn’t even get my hands dirty, the prodigal son,

the name seems worthy. Can’t hurt me, or phase me, Took time to investigate the bullshit and  this is my trophy. Used to wear a ski mask just to write a hit, now I know that the pen can be more than a grammatical weapon then the post pink slip

Born and Bred with a pistol in my mouth, I swear tears never streamed south. I have things lined up for the future, but the critics are to busy trying to open up my healed suture. Used to be loser, then became and monk and now I can crossover, jump over your head and slam dunk. Multiple bodies in the trunk with pencil wounds, your smell of success was years back and even then it stunk but now it’s rotting away.

On a day like today I’ve got life on a tray throwing up gang signs missing fingers, deformed ear, oh glad that you care. I thought you were to busy wrestling with your man teddy bear, and I stand sincere in front of you today, face painted with a  vintage look of fear. And as the beat gets darker so does the horizon, so go and get it. Empty threats are your death, no matter how fresh I’ll put you to the test.

I hear them laughing as I wake up in hell, but I’m a chemical that doesn’t mix well, I’m perpendicular to the sickness…hell, parallel to whatever is left, I want to go ill and stand still, I never took my eyes away when I wasn’t the predator but the kill

 

Now I dance to an ominous tune, I’m the king of the hill, independent of the population’s unrealistic lust of the dollar bill,

Perpetuating doom

I repudiate therapy and request for the snub to twist aside, I smile as the painful episodes subside, this is the season and I’m ready for war, but I have to stay alive as my mind contemplates treason, I continually attempt to outsmart reason

We swerve to the fast lane and the speed of sound stutters, we are raising prodigies

Brilliant oddities, In the distance you hear thunder, In my periphery, I sense wonder, like who is this bad ass nigga with all the thunder, will he conquer or blunder, Will he conquer or blunder? Or will all fall out off way as the new day starts to conjure sunrise, for your eyes only, we look at situations differently, because a lot of them end up quite homely. The biggest prophecy is to shoot you down where you are standing, Strawberry Grandin!

Rebel

My ascension will provoke anxiety but I have a shrink, chaos in the horizon but I refuse to blink, refuse to think, how I came alive after each disaster, I stay safe because my dreams preach just like a pastor

They insisted on calling me MC Socrates, for the rawest flow of the philosophy, drip dropping these and spitting so harshly that the atmosphere is due for apologies. Ophthalmology, my rhymes are college bound destined to major in astrology

I say, kill the noise I’m trying to read, about these information age gladiators conversing with me, as if I would seize the opportunity, as they mistaken the nights silence for some sort of hypocrisy, but politics had no play, no diplomatic immunity today

Just News to say, bypass the outlets and fools, fill up on vegetables especially the peas, mastered any pattern that’s in between A and Z, god locked me in my chamber but I had already stolen the key. This battle is Jr. King vs. Mini Me, do you think happiness is the antonym to my strife, I’ll die for what I believe then live a fake life

Should I climax to create the calamity, or the let everyone else balance modern laws in this world’s insanity. They set a spotlight to our flaws

They wouldn’t stop at our information so they broke our jaws

Without speech there is the greatest language, strongest cause is created out of anguish

Rhyming patterns are the infrastructure in bulk

The Rebel, through devastating storms I base my life upon with the portraits and statues I sculpt

With desperation, I wonder if I missed daylight and the birds had sung

The taste of fear, on my tongue

So I left for the area where the sky was blue, deceived them enough to believe I was from the Metro area of Timbuktu

My holy grail was a picture of something inappropriate I drew

People acted like I spoke in tongues, they feared my scars, frowned as I put smoke in my lungs

I felt like I wanted to declare war on the young

Wondering if this is why the politicians need so many guns! Pleaded with a plot, I observed my life all day

I had epic conservations with big words, because I had nothing to say

The music was the same old melody and even that wouldn’t play

How can I live defeated by my own constitution, I blamed my problems on the new pollution

I wanted to grow wings, and be part of a spiritual revolution

I hate people who wear their sun glasses because they think they are so bright

Never understand censoring the violence when every day I live it

I acted tough, tried to try, each day was another reason to die

Still judged as an outcast of my family, my mind was no longer parallel to my sanity

I entertained therapists with my calamity

Spat volatile and unnecessary amounts of profanity

Depression tried to kill me, not with one assassin, but the whole fleet

When I lost, it wasn’t the defeat but the purpose; I had an army and all of its analogies at my feet

I never paused, I’d never retreat

How should I end this, put my life on repeat?

Fast forward the nonsense, and find something to keep