It is with a great laughter
That I watch this basher
For all they do, is rhyme
But they'll never catch it in time
The meaning of their own creation
Such a new way to perversion
They think they're cool because they can give you a beat
Nonetheless, they can't totally feel it and live it
Poetically incorrect
They come in with their girls, most likely called ''Hoes''
Yet, only soon will they realise the hidden wombs
The youth of their nation, such a long pride
There's nothing to do out there, but to bribe.
With their so-called might, they will create perfection
Not realising yet, the creatures of the night, their abominations
Their work is now rebelling, a lovely bloodlust
They all have one goal now, to turn you to dust
Poetically incorrect
Is what they call RAP, for it rhymes like crap.
The control of their lives, with their guns and knives
Can't you understand, can't you see ?
You'll never acknowledge the power of the land, nor admire the beauty of the sea
Someday it'll work out, to something nicely done
But at current times at war, you can only prone
Prone and wait, little child, wait for the horrors to pass by
Do not misunderstand the reality that comes to its finest
Let them try to fool you, and show them who's the first to die
Someday they will understand, their insanity and non-sense, has fed your lunatical morbid imagination, to its best.
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