#freestyle called Address You #rap 2016

I said hey Snoop here’s the scoop

Let me take you back to my roots

And if you don’t like that

Then you can jump through hoops

Smaller than a Fruit Loop,

Because you are barking up the wrong tree

As I will only give you a count of three

To get you and your nephew

Because this is no place for a Bow Wow

Because if you are smart

You will see this as more than just an F-U

So concede and throw in the tow-wow

Or there won’t be any refuge

As I am not here for a powwow

But I am here to address you

Because if you think you are Kal-el

Than Superman you must be stupid

Or in another one of your stupors again

As you will be the one who needs to be rescued

So send all the police troopers you like

To try to save your life but here’s a tip

For ya, when I start spitting on this mic

You won’t be feeling any euphoria

As I am like Kryptonite with a grip on this mic

Because I knew from the crib, I was born to write

As this is proof that I can do it no matter if it’s day or night

Despite every bodies dismay for these lyrics that I write

As it don’t take much for my skills to display my will

To be one of the greats as I will do what it takes to prevail

Be if I get hate mail, my blood spilled or love still,

I prefer hate because it fits me like a glove

So don’t think that you can predict my fate

As I won’t bail that’s just my mind state

Now some thought I was made for jail

A kid with a lot of anger on my plate

With the complexion that looked frail

And no affection, a life of no direction

Just my refection that was dressed to kill

But I had no intention to exit it early, go straight

To them pearly gates as a man that failed

So you all can hightail and take your hate

Just don’t take the Z out next to Jay,

And sleep on me like NyQuil

Or you will awake with more than a slight chill

Cold sweats as it will be too late, because

My rhymes are built on being the last nail

In your coffin and that’s not up for debate

Because crossing me is like crossing

The Boston marathon’s finished line

And it won’t turn out to be great

As I am just biding my time

Like a bomb that’s lying in wait

As I am not here to give sight to the blind

But to bring your world crashing down all around

Quicker than Jack and Jill tumbling down a hill

With the intent to steal your crown and hijack freewill

As I got a sick mind that treats my pad as a pail,

Because my pen throws up nothing but mad rhymes so ill

With never ending lines that keeps me so hungry

Like I am a starving artist that just can’t seem to ever get my fill,

Because all I ever wanted is to be one of the greats

With confidences unshaken and a will that can’t break

That you hold up like a church holds up the Holy Grail

As this is not just my rebirth but I refused to fail

And come all the way to earth just to have my skills cursed

Or for you to take the wind out of my sails

So follow my verse like you’re following a trail


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