A Hip-Hop Song I Wrote That Got Featured In A Magazine
A Free(d) Style: Science of Ignorance
If Hip-Hop is dead, then Im speaking from the grave
This noble art was buried by an ignorance wave
There once was meaning, its mark was clear
Now I gotta shine underground cause its dark down here
We gotta have some change to this fucking game list
Inane brains are famous while intellectuals remain nameless
And its not just this, any stupidity gets me pissed
Illogical bliss followers will always exist
Im a battle rapper, with the tone of a dapper
Challenge me and I become a lyrical bone snapper
Your words are hollow, and impossible to follow
You trying to spit but all you do is swallow
I love controversy, I share no mercy
Feasting on fools who think theyre worthy
Just enemies of reason in our search for purpose
With thoughts so shallow they cant even scratch the surface
I got thoughts so deep, most implode from the pressure
So they take blind leaps to invoke their own pleasures
Dont vent your opinion if you have no explanation!
Im belligerent to the ignorant with no foundation
My reason traverses the universe in one burst
Yet its terse enough to fit in one verse,
With passion that cant be rationed or stopped from lashin
At those mind fastin in ill minded fashions
Im a time splitter rhyme spitter sorting out the mind litter
Of missed hitters, pissed quitters, and ill-fated wrist slitters
You are reading the pinnacle of satirical lyricals
People call me cynical but Im just acting empirical
I rep impeccable technique, tasting beats like a synesthete
Rapping delectability unique with flows harder than concrete
With these loose lips that spit sick wit and sink syllable ships
While my noosed tongue relentlessly rips pitiful shits
Theres a place where reality has no devotion
The moons my emotion, my bloods a high ocean
It feels like Im caught in a slow motion explosion
As I watch the world crumble from my flow erosion
My words are more prevailing then the voice of a pastors
But my only prayer is when I prey on punk ass rappers
I dont put blind faith in failed science disasters
I am a slave to myself, so I am my own master
Martyr word slaughterer of my vocab department
I solder their carcasses to repair where my hearts bent
Depression drinks at the bar that you set to high
Gods afterlife is a lie like things I cant defy
Reminisce forgotten places and nameless faces once known
Cause in the end, your past will be the only thing you own
For my whole life, Ive had a need to define this
If my soul was cut open, I would bleed true science
- Jew-Unit
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