Rap rehearsals (1)

I'm already home
smoking cigarettes till the break of dawn,
watching it curl and twist with my light on,
this here's one of my songs,
with which I drop the bomb
someone turn this mic on
Tell these other rappers it ain't easy,
hate and corruption reminiscent of Eazy-E
on another level to you haters,
if you had the talent you wouldn't wanna trade places,
this shit that I'm smoking,
the shit that you're hearing,
this shit that I'm rolling,
shit papers are saying,
the lies that our media are incessantly spraying,
all over the place, can't avoid what's in your face,
following turns into a chase,
cuz when I pick up the pace
you wastes can't keep up with the way I accelerate,
Sprint after me and lose some weight, fuck the competition-
I don't compete, I exterminate
like the Darleks after the whole human race,
Hate, apathy and ignorance in the masses,
Contemplating whether to go with the habit
to send the drone through your skull
Easy to preach to those with no soul
cuz they know the reality of a world gone cold.

There can only be peace when everyone realises Violence is meaningless.

Now I know why with violence I'm so stylistic,
it's cuz when that bully swung I had a chance to swing back
but missed it,
now everything I feel is idealistic,
and I wanna rule with as much illusion as a mystic,
choke you so hard you're coughing like you got cystic
fibrosis, this religious neurosis
is the scourge of this earth but no one's noticed,
that what you pay for is worthless,
unless you're hiring protection then it's worth it,
cuz you'll need it, don't suppress this rage feed it,
meet it, in the park after dark in the part
where cameras are scarce,
and plan illegal acts tonight,
wage war without having to fight,
do a Fight Club and target financial institutions,
boxes of semtex in the parking lot, no need for guns,
plenty of fun to be had when the fireworks
count down, 3-2-1

Nightdream

The shadow sets into cold nights
as music I make in order to break
the shackles of deceit that weigh you down
make you frown, turn your understanding
of the world upside down,

I feel like knowing all my life
made me 100 years older
and my suppressed blood-lust made me 100
times colder,
Bolder then a boulder I dropped on you
from distance with total precision
And the broken blocks aren't as heavy as
breaking rocks with a pick axe,
cuz you got locked up by a bunch of twats,
fat cats,
fat chance, just a glance at your case,
you as well have raped,
and shot an orphan in a ditch,
you got caught growing weed? What a bitch.

Daydream

The problem with pad and pencil
is that this is a self-perpetuating rhyme
that grows over time
To glisten ink over every piece of crinkled paper,
in my room, bordering the sides,
what am I supposed to do, when I
have more thoughts on paper then in mind?
I can't say the inspiration is clearly defined
in how I can easily pick you apart,
rhyme after rhyme,
and how these words can never be eternal,
time after time,
Maybe you feel my rhymes don't make sense,
I'll monkey mother-fucker and make you sit on the fence,
Try to keep up dumbass what are you dense?

Would you rather I slow this insane flow
to let others know that this shit ain't low-brow,
but if you've got the tactics and the know-how, inspiration,
by anything and don't wait for invitation
for your dreams, live your life until it bursts at
the seams, but now you're turning green
and in you decomposer's teem,
but don't worry, this was just a daydream.

K the Killer

I'ma tell a story of K the Killer,
he's the real deal, all action no filler,
blaze the marijuana till the dawn be coming,
but he woke up and wanted to make P one beautiful morning,
so he rang a number he got off a mate
to get afew G's transferred into his account, it ain't bait,
so a fella comes to his doorstep, walks K to his car,
and drives down to South London 'hoods, other ghettos ain't that far,
Car full of nigerians, card and passport ready,
they drop him off at the bureau eager for him to draw out lots of money,
the cashier says "I'm calling the cops!" K almost bolts but the mother fucker
is only trying to be funny,
the maximum withdrawal limit exceeded, he'll wait till tomorrow,
the runners of their scam have taken their cut, while hoodrats rob, steal and borrow,
so the next day Killer K goes with two hoodrats waiting on the doorstep,
back to the bureau, withdraw 2 grand, exit the bank, and
ambushed by 8 hench men who don't hesitate to flash the glock, punch and hit,
and outnumbered dragged by his collar into the bank carpark,
daylight robbery that had been planned from the start,
day one, these motherfuckers saw K as a chump,
but the Killer wasn't finished, the day hadn't gone
thing's needed to be done;
now East London readies for war and these motherfuckers are going down,
all this blood to be spilt by the greed and pride of these clowns,
so Killer got robbed and left,
on the phone, the boss' bitch saying "the boss says
squash the beef, everything is blessed,
you can keep the money that remains in your account',
later on a phonecall from the vultures saying
certain people didn't receive their amount,
you see Killer lost 2 g's but only 200 reached the hands,
of the asshole who had set K up, making his demands,
or some other stupid shit,
it doesn't matter, gonna smoke one clip,
empty another into your chests,
gonna go samurai til there's no pieces to chop left,
I'ma teabag all your gobsmacked faces,
when I'm using your torn out spinal cord as laces,
I don't even care about a response to this,
cuz the South don't know about how the East do business,
we gonna shut you down,
my manic laughter will be the last sound,
you'll ever hear, so be prepared.

Wicked Rhymes

Hey, I got a hook for you,
when I hit you I'm so fast that I'll turn your balls blue,
don't misconstrue my rhyme,
I keep dodging bullets but it's only a matter of time,
to see you gone and buried I'd lay my life on the line,
lay on a landmine,
there's no land on earth that holds a mind like mine,
and if by perchance you happened to find,
another who can produce such sophisticated, twisted lines,
then a shuriken will fly straight into his eye,
blood keeps gushing while grey matter and fluid flies,
by the blade of my katana there'll be no one left to die,
although I'm ninja these shadowed syllables
aren't encouragement for violence, they are modern day miracles,
like you find in the bible, analogies and parables,
metaphors, but in my rhymes you won't find the extermination of races,
people can call me violent but the crimes against humanity,
done in the name of Judeo-Christianity
makes me laugh in your faces,
why don't we trade places, trading rooms,
or even trading wombs,
cuz that's where this started,
from the moment I entered this world I nearly departed,
but sheer force of will got my heart started,
and I've fought for every breath my life just to breathe clean air,
I'm gonna rise to the top, but I won't stop there,
I'm gonna get so high that I'm out of gravity's pull,
say goodbye,
to the earth and I'm ready to fly,
across solar systems and galaxies,
and don't dare be mad at me,
for wanting to escape man's hypocrisy,
too much potential gone down the drain,
maybe there'll be another flood, bring on the rain,
don't need Noah's ark, although I can't swim,
I won't be a deadweight, floating in this bubble I'm in,
between me and the world, don't listen to politician's spin,
and the bubble will grow to encompass everyone within,
till the ignorance is outside, on the extremities, without remedies,
while the waves crash closer still.

Automatic Educational Treadmills

All these people talking 'bout education,
makes my mind go back to them messed up days again,
one of my teachers had a chair thrown at her
when her neck was in a cast,
Some would say for the book to be thrown back
at this violent youngster is too little to ask,

But looking back I remember his parents had split,
must've been hard for his mother,
living in a country alienated by a language barrier from a better life
while her sons wreak havoc under cover,
of darkness he embraces gangster mentality as
he can't cope with the briefness of mortality,
living to escape the pain and loss of his father,
Goes from victim to bully, one day gangland martyr,
and it ain't cool to be clever,
people who need support, family stability, encouragement-
look at geometry and say whatever,
fuck Pythagoras' Theorem,
commit crimes and sprint away from the boydem,
and fuck going on time and sober to lesson,
blazing is awesome but there's a time and place for your session,
for red-eyes sunglasses are their form of discretion,

and while I'm ranting about the sorry state of youth life,
I wanna take time to say fuck the BNP, I ain't white,
but how easy do you think you can turn a liberal public
to an aryan republic,
It's too late now to talk about ethnic british staying here,
Britain, once a blood soaked colony, cowering in ignorant fear?
Fat chance, cuz word hit the ear,
for anyone with a brain to jeer
at the sight of Nick Griffin down a sniper scope,
we all originated from Africa anyways, any division
by culture or colour is just a joke,
Fuck it, we're all human,
we all want to get by and do what we can,
can-do attitude to believe in hope till our last breath,
but I can taste the blood-lust in the air,
let's nuke each other till there's nothing left.

Retarded Development

Once upon a rhyme,
lived a boy who hadn't done laps
in the rat race of life,
so while I'm young and the memory is fresh
put this quill to canvas and story it will write

Of a boy growing up in East London,
around the corner from gangs, drugs and prostitution
Live his sheltered life under lock and key,
no socialising with hoodrats,
his mother fears for his safety,
won't let him become street scum,
tried to shield the youngerster,
from factors that were introduced later
A young boy who believed in Karma and was never a retaliator,
shy and self-pitying, body open access punchbag,
catch him sobbing 10 minutes later,
every small comment served as a confiscator,
of self respect and pride,

Had he known what he knows now, he would
have become a mutilator,
not a diplomat of pen and paper,
instead the type who suggests
"shoot first ask questions later"
the kinda fella you wouldn't want to bump into in an alley,
the kinda killer who's messier then a broken home's collapsed marriage,
fired for malpractice, an ex-coroner
who's as artistic with your brains
as Hitchcock was spilling blood into drains,
I'm lucky, from ignorance came appreciation
for artifacts of intelligence,
but this dettachment from society
makes me feel culturally irrelevant,
I think growing up on Robocop hindered my moral development,

And what an uncommon audience, eh,
listening to a teenage stoner anti-establishment
liberal british indian,
but something I have in abundance is vision,
all I need to do is find a way to sway your decision,
to focus on listening, cuz the way that I'm narrating,
quirky in style to say the least,
try it for an evening,
see if at least one rhyme don't change the way
you're perceiving,
this world, it'll make you stockpile rations
and ruin the pattern in which you're sleeping,
your routine is fucked cuz waking life's a daydream
and while there's still people out there not eating,
greed is humankind's celebrated new meaning,
for such an important moment in history I find
our complacence demeaning,
we need great minds with the capacity to be scheming,
in prepartion for a new era of Mankind,
where Man is no kinder,
you find your best mate's gone
because she wouldn't agree, to wear an I.D,
and now no one knows where to find her,
easier to allow mistakes of morality, like,
herding up non-citizens, arrested and
herded in holding pens,
Not suprised that the ghettos are
rich zionist's solution for
ethnic pollution,
all done in the name of
God's retribution.

The Beginning...

I’m feeling quite paranoid
There’s this emotion I can’t avoid
Like within myself there’s a void
Where the idea of the soul existed
Gone with thoughts of the Lord, never missed it,
But I feel like there must be something more to life,
Then the money to your name and the fame and the ice,
Like the public is the polite way of saying sheep
And we’re trained to covet the rewards we reap,
And while we’re so fixated on our exquisite items
We fail to see the tribulations, of less fortunate humans,
Raised to believe utter nonsense,
Or that racism, sexism or homophobia is good sense,
And if the ignorance isn’t broken then the hate,
Not only does not escalate, it self perpetuates
Till the super rich and wealthy remain above, but as gods
Made from technology and science, things not understood by the poor sod,
Who can only look from below now,
All chance of hope is through now,
No where left to run now,
When the land you love is a police state,
And with every move you make you’ll hesitate
They have no boundaries, they have microphones
to listen to you masturbate,
And masticate,
track you when you choose to protest against the state,
But now it’s too late,
Too easy to track you and crush you underfoot,
RFIDs and bank accounts, even if you could
Argue and complain,
But man you’re not sane,
Terrorism is an atrocity,
But worse are the laws that’ve been brought in
that further animosity,
A divided society, what shitty democracy,
And fuck being mainstream,
It’s a daydream,
Fuck being a celebrity
I want to be able to go into the city
Without people wondering who I am
Or why I look familiar,
Maybe the hair, I couldn’t tell yah,
But I’ll tell you this,
Obama needs to piss
While in conference he’s sitting,
Or while citizens he’s greeting,
My point is he’s only human, one man,
And people’s expectations have tended to expand,
And while America waits for him to fix the economy,
And solve world hunger and put sugar in fuckin’ candy,
So sickly sweet have you made an honest politician,
He said time is needed, some got impatient and diss him,
But whatever he says, it don’t matter,
All you need to know is that while scientists are mastering anti-matter,
Ethnic minorities will be a blood splatter,
Just look at Denver International Airport,
With prophetic murals written,
Too bad they’ve been painted over it,
So you can’t see what’s hidden,
Behind the scenes this is just the beginning,
this is just The Beginning.

A Love Poem

From the moment I saw you it was decided
we swore we'd never be apart
see how far we've come, you've gone
I wish I could be back at the start

I think what I want to say is thank you
A thank-you letter, yes, from me to you
A letter scared of being read
From the heart and to the mouth,
Tonight it speaks true

I would give a thousand yesterdays
for a thousand more tomorrows together
We'd meet in the park, blinks after daybreak
Being close is worth enduring the weather,

Be on the train, lose myself in your eyes,
lose my taste in your lips,
mind flickers to your thighs- shit, central line,
dozens of eyes, paying us mind
but coy little smile, she doesn't care,

She doesn't care, no she doesn't care,
they gaze as we embrace, but she doesn't care,
because I am hers and she is mine,
nothing can tear us apart, neither space nor time,

Can keep me from her, her smile, her curves,
her lips, and her eyes, how they sparkle inside,
mischief and excitement in her eyes,
and the same look in mine.

As time went by, and commitment made me scared,
and ganja made me weird, and certain truths were bared,
such as fear of responsibility of my actions
should I get drunk and something happen
But nothing will happen cuz you're the girl with the
twinkling eyes, the mischievous smile, sharp wit and some guile,
the sweetest misanthrope you'd think to meet, oh so sweet,

the innocence that comes with not knowing she's pretty,
she's more beautiful then the others, I've forgotten them already

I never felt a day go by in which I would
give up holding your hand, exchanging a glance,
holding you close, I get into stance,
and walk close againnst you, no other way would do,
as kissing your neck and tugging your hair just
comes natural too.

And now you're with him, this story you know,
I miss how it felt, to know you're with me
and when I see you I want to hold you,
close enough for you to hear my heartbeat
and when I hold you I want to caress you
close enough to hear your whispers and moans,

but in honesty, to have a thousand tomorrows
of holding your hand, knowing you're mine,
what could be more sublime, than spending
one thousand days, not nine hundred and ninety nine,
Days in the sun, or days filled with rain?
The skies do not matter, happiness is the aim.

From the moment I saw you it was decided,
we swore upon a star we'd never be apart,
I still want to say thank you for everything,
but I wish I could show you my thanks,
and be back at the start.