Body Bags
I hate all of you
Especially your bloodline
I made you acknowledge me
Just by that one line
I never been to rome
But there’s no end to my reign
I should’ve wrote for Fort Minor
And y’all will remember my name
The neighbors know it
Not just because I’m a poet
They hear your girl moaning
While I be choking and stroking
I told God to not make me a rapper
Cause I’ll stay in the booth
That Snoh was almost dry
So I let the smokers shine the coupes
What makes me upset
Is that everyone got my name in the mouth
The weak ones are the weakest
And the loudest by far
Who said you can step close to me?
I write with the best of them
I’m God’s Son writing poetry in honor of God’s Son
These bars about to blow your mind
Let me talk my talk
In a more grammatical way instead
Then I’ll feed you to Red
And it’s off with your head
I’ve been wreaked of madness
That’s why I summoned Havoc
Having the audacity to come for little brother
That’s tragic
I’ve been to Orlando
Always brought the magic
You’ve been full of shit
That’s why you need a laxative
I’m poetry’s professional prolific poet
You better act like you know it
And if you don’t know
You will eventually
You’re stupid,
You’re dumb
Your bars are average
I should’ve been named Mayhem Mark Cuban
The way I own the Mavericks
It’s so appalling how you claim to be the homie
Then act like you don’t know me
To feast on my leftovers
You can’t even differentiate whether you’re drunk or sober
Something’s been on my plate
A peculiar thought
Why do I have to spazz on every poem
Just to get the applause?
I wonder why…
Let me count to five
1, 2, 3, 4
Sike! I lied
You’ll never find God in the garden
There’s nothing unique
Except for remedial poets
That are looking for beef
Claiming its “all love” from the other side of the streets
Being controlled by a snake
Wanting privacy
But can’t be discreet
You phishing for some answers
Here’s a real one
Don’t bring a sword to this fight
You’ll get popped by the gun
Then I’m gunna push p
P-o-e-t-r-y
Slow it down, run it back!
I just pushed poetry in one line!
I really want to say so mo’
But when I do
You won’t get a welcome back or a welcome home
I’ll transmute your name to sans
And you’ll beg for mercy
While I decimate you with bars like I’m Indigo
With the indi flow
Give all of you a blood bath
Feast over your carcass like a Lion, Now that’s an indi show
Okay, back to the subject matter at hand
I want to get y’all mad
That was part of the plan
King and Zay
They’re not ready for this poem tonight
We’ve been established as three goats
All we needed was one mic
We got the crown
No one cutting these wings
We orchestrate our stories in A Minor the way Alicia Keys sings
We’re not ordinary people
We know which way to go
We’re not even moving fast
Y’all just moving slow
And before I go
Let’s make one thing clear
Eyes haven’t seen
What ears couldn’t hear
The next time you say my name
You better use it with respect
Red says it’s off with your head
I’m slicing your neck
Havoc going to stand over the body
And watch you disintegrate
I’m going to take real pumps of the blunt
To show you I wasn’t fake
Poetic Mafia is poetic Justice
We’re no cheap thrill
We’re better than all of you now
And will be better than you still
Get your shit together
Before it’s too late
Cause when Cinco de Mayo comes
You would’ve solidified your fate.
⁃ Mayhem
Who the fuck do you think are to be demanding a poem from me?
I’m the Mozart of this art, like all these written no-gimmick bars are my profession,
Woah, that flow’s a fragment piercing you and while you’re bleedin’, I tell you a fine confession:
This is freedom of expression,
This is me out of depression,
Physics is nowhere near a suggestion
For reason behind the never yet reached depths of my perception.
Boy you be readin’ these ill bars by a writer so sublime
You couldn’t fathom or imagine what it’s like to be behind
The steering wheel of the high-paced drive up in my mind,
All these niggas spitting free-verse, like that’s skilled, yeah sure
But they’re nowhere close to flowing poems so potent it could blind,
You can play this like over to cope, you’ll need to pause and rewind
Not one, two, three but at least four times.
This be that sick spittin’ raw shit you aint heard on the mic,
This be that thick dick masculinity half gentleman half crazed psych
This lions roar will make ya mind soar,
This wordplay be the new age strength like Thor,
You basic writers way too slow, mumble talking on the mic and reading shit like Baby Pro,
You niggas on that mainstream shit
This be that underground vicious wit
Boy I’ve been decollating downtown before Poetry was ever the solution for ya mental breakdown
I’m that middle-school rap era, some of you didn’t make it outta high school so ima slow it down & make this clearer:
In order to succeed in this game
You must write your own shit
They got you out here mimicking me, tryna write a hit
Got you out here looking bad, you should just quit
I seen you at Thompson’s Poetry Cafe man, The crowd didn’t like you, they laughed through your whole segments lifespan
Take your whole act and give it to Oscar in the trashcan
Study ya mentor, Mailin, remember SHE GOT FLOW.
OTP only dick riding for notoriety, to put on a show
Twitter got y’all in a choke hold, you just can’t let it go
Got y’all searching for clout cus ya self esteem low
How you & her a team but you stuck in her shadow?
Too busy worried about me when your career sliding down the slope
And I ain’t talking about the mountains
Out here with Deion Sanders as the new coach
Ima leave it here, cuz PPC let me on this site so your intellect can squirt,
Your bitch wish she could be next to me, but I’ve already turned her down, you too concerned coming after me when its her You should be following around
Niggas always sleep on me, go to bed
No one is as hungry in this game, overfed
Niggas know I got the dough, loaf of bread
Coat of red on the rims, motorhead
Snitches need to be quiet I don’t wanna hear a peep
Actin like they real they so Meryl Streep
The Poetic Mafia, we Adele, rollin’ in the deep
Comin like sex after deep slow strokes it’s a promise I’m a keep
This diss ain’t fake, real Lacoste, crocodile Bitch are you reading Death on the Nile? Could you please delete that file? Or just shut the fuck up for a while? I’m faster than a hurricane I’m hotter than that bitch Jane Lane From all the insults I’ve heard I could go insane Now bitches, you can kiss my ass in the rain You can scream how I am great I’m never too soon, neither too late And I’ll always keep my faith Until Heaven opens its gate Slut, could you just take that dildo, & stick it? I gotta real thing, don’t you want to lick it? Just like a bisquit Their heads are calculators, digit!
Lust of power is the most flagrant of all the passions
Too late to reconcile I have no more compassion
I’m just going to put your head on my wall & call it furniture fashion
This is Havoc, Mayhem, & Red on 1 poem, we just killed it
And yes its all 3 of our signatures on your death certificate
1,2 Havocs coming for you
3,4 better lock the door
5,6 now you’re shittin Bricks
7,8 time to dig your grave
I’m a one man army like Ason unique Ol’ dirty bastard check out my technique cause
You got no chance in hell to take me down
This is Gotham city I’m Batman and you’re the clown
It’s bout time to rain on your parade where’s the clouds? Haven’t you heard the prince is in town?
Time to wreak havoc & mash the button of mass destruction and destroy everything you care about I don’t give a fuck about the battle it’s only about the war
Skydiving into the land of my enemies attacking you niggas with alliteration and similes
Knowledge is power but only for those who are willing to seek it
Makes sense why you would be dumb enough to make me your enemy cause you wasn’t willing to peep shit
My pen is the sword !
The proper choice of weapon you just a little salamander and you thought you were a dragon?
Well it’s time to get slain cause ain’t no half stepping like big daddy cane
I came to crash your plane and mash your brain at the bottom of my timberland boots there’s your blood stains
It’s time to smoke dat leaf pack
Light it up Uchiha style fire ball Justu blow’em away rasenshuriken
If you don’t know now you know nigga I’m the son of a gun that’s not afraid to pull the trigger
This is Mortal Kombat so I guess you’re headed nowhere it’s time for her close up go ahead and finish her down-forward-back-down-triangle
Head all screwed up Drop you like gravity time to meet your maker
FATALITY !!!
So if you up yo shit you better be ready to blow don’t be scared now Mrs puff I’m the warlord of these 7 seas you can’t escape off no boat
Cause I’m the captain now !!
You
Pitiful
Pathetic
Pallid
Platitudinous excuse for a human being I’m tired of your obsequious behavior
You done let out the beast and you are now my prey you got no chance in hell to escape
The monster from underneath your bed finally decided to come out and play
goodbye now your welcome was overstayed
Do you believe in the Boogeyman?!
Ready or not here I come times for Childs play so let’s have some fun
1,2 Havocs coming for you
3,4 better lock the door
5,6 now you’re shittin Bricks
7,8 time to dig your grave
And now
Back to your regularly scheduled programs
Sleep in Misery
Rest In Torment
-The Mafia has left the building