I am lyrically inclined
I twist space and time when I rhyme.
You should record me so you could rewind every ten seconds
And find out how I blew your mind.
A young genius I am, a prodigy of poetry,
That got a limitless vocabulary, irresistible floetry.
So every time I open my mouth I speak fiercely,
To make you feel what I feel for every other eternity.
God's fighting angel I am, my own guardian angel.
That'll walk up to the bad guy myself and happily say hello;
For I am fearless in solitary and solitaried when fearless
With no need of emotion because I got heart, but I'm heartless.
Worked through adversity to get where I am, in a paradox
Where working puts me through more adversity,
ITS KILLING ME;
Trying to be an icon in my family and inspiration to the next generation
With news like my brothers in the hospital again,
Damn...hope you feel better man for you are who makes me what I am.
And I am that warrior who roared his words through the war.
Never lost a battle, general,5 star;
Used to fight for the sky, now I'm shooting stars.
Too cool to ride white dwarves....
Head real big for my ellipse time of my eclipse mind goes backwards
Off a ten second intro that only begins to tell who I am.
And I am due what I deserve,
I am D-E-W D.E.W.
That hydrates your famine cooler than a mountain naturally,
A real green machine.
This a lyrical anthem, call that recycling.
I am lyrically storming it up without thunder or lightning.
I am literally fighting to die slowly
Contemplating how my dash would be because of D.P.
And the pain that produces in me
I am feeding my shadow
That eats me alive bit by b-i-t.
In result of no real ambition;
But do everything with a fiery passion;
Do something for nothing, a stereo-typical south of North American.
But I am coated with the stereo-type of an average African:
'Insignificant, living for what good reason.'
I am uncontrollably insured by this triple A.
It is blunt that steering my life day by day
To some will never be okay.
But I will be who I am
And that is capital D to the i-o-n.
With a paternal last name.
Origin is out of state, guess he don't want to claim
Who I am, but I don't give him fame;
I'm still a man, I'm still sane.
Running my round life on the track
Making sure I don't have regrets when I crash my train.
A conductor slash track star is my occupation.
I make no stops till I reach death's station; my final destination.
I was a child seeing myself successful, premonitions.
White picket fenced black house, ancestry tradition.
'Can't do that negro, bad living conditions.'
Paint the fence black trying to get out of the recession
But a living giving here and a lot of taking there
Creates no financial solution what-so-ever,
Just unknowingly infuriates those who thought they were clever.
And their lies I will no longer endeavor,
Put under the pressure to believe that their way of living was better?
But my mind is a complex, so I think as an elaborator.
And I can become crucial when I am cruel.
Intentions to put an impact on your life, I can be that who,
Will bring a stop to the unfinished, create an unknown end,
Terminated, done, fin,
Conclusion; I am a young gifted African,
The second hottest thing, the son of the sun for man, I am.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.