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Thread: Picasso's Masterpieces

  1. #106

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    Quote Originally Posted by Prophet Picasso View Post
    Some arrogant poetry for y'all:

    Superiority complex, lyrical authority over a majority of concepts/
    seniority on this convex orb, ya see, on this grammatical conquest/
    itís a fanatical process the way I forge this mathematical content/
    a monk who blow skunk on sabbatical, the projects is my convent/
    you can take me outta context but chu canít take me out the game/
    top five alive, shout my name, I push lame emcees out the frame/
    on top of that, I move caine, mary jane, and that boy for ya veins/
    avoidin that same shit, I spit knowledge for that void in ya brain/
    hereís a jewel: first rule of engagement, donít fool with the greatest/
    you a fool in amazement of the latest opus of dopeness I created/
    it seem like I was gone for ages, but now Iím back from my hiatus/
    I was busy gettin wages, havin foot races wit racists in police chases/
    I reached my oasis Ďfore I could catch more cases in them cages/
    them gates is outrageous, to turn a gracious imam to a straight sadist/
    but I made it around them bases, now Iím at home in the majors/
    magnum opus like Poe's Raven, I am Picasso in his latest stages/
    cuz Iíll leave you in braces like teenage faces, but itís permanent/
    cuz, I came from the firmament wit the worst intent on murkin it/
    I circumvent suckas in murderous tournaments, so stay subservient/
    donít get chin checked or wrapped around the neck wit a tourniquet/
    I fashion the planets like Copernicus, you canít match my swagger/
    dungeons and dragons, catch my drift or you goní catch my dagger/
    donít stagger out cha cave til you slaves hear the commander call/
    spittin space age rage, Iím like Alexander to yíall neanderthals/
    goddamn, Iím raw...

    This is the kind of lyricism that's untouchable



    My evidence, my own testament, written on wood
    Twelve tribes layin at the head of corners in hoods
    Hell razah

  2. #107
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    I am legend, yes, I am brave, a violent slave inside of a lion's cage/
    I get paid Zion's wage to stand tall and spit truth on a silent stage/
    that's how I quiet this strident rage, to sit silent like a Mayan sage/
    insteada firing an iron gauge like I did when I was bout my scion's age/
    now we in the science age, but they still can't find a way to employ/
    I'm finally understandin, I'ma always end up being a d-boy, no decoy/
    the real McCoy, I could destroy your run-of-the-mill rhyme schemes/
    I spit crack, you speak pipe dreams, these flames will melt you ice creams/
    you the type to bag up gram sacks of shwag and brag, callin it light green/
    you the type to take your re-up money and blow it all on a wide-screen/
    then come ask me for a front, shit happens around this time every month/
    yo babymama check ain't came yet, so you here askin me for a free blunt/
    you don't really want to confront me while your bitch is here, do you?/
    cuz I been looked thru you and got a true view of ya heart under that Fubu/
    you ain't no Zulu, I wouldn't even need the two-two to hit chu wit that voodoo/
    they call me Prophet cuz I'm a guru, but they call me Sixx cuz I'm cuckoo...
    Image is everything except the truth.

  3. #108
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    They can't behold my luscious dame, I can't control this loveless game/
    blowin dutches of the lushest jane, but you foldin up, it's such a shame/
    it's insane you still hang on the same corners from whence my Cutlass came/
    my bluntness maims, leave a fuckin lame with nuthin but a bloodless frame/
    you fucks can't contain my bulbous brain, mayn, it's such a wondrous thang/
    my fangs draw blood from the most sumptuous veins, you chumps just feign/
    compare my bars to the lustrous plains of upper Spain after a summer rain/
    or I can stutter my dullest pangs, spoken straight from Fred Douglass' pain/
    for peers that I lost when the injustice came, out Sixx went, in Justin came/
    in just a day I built Rome, I feel chrome on my door and a wheel made of grain/
    my Caprice soaked in oak, this Dominican dime laughin like I just told a joke/
    ice cubes in my deck and my coke, today was a good day, I ain't awoken broke/
    I keep the fiends smokin dope, my folks rockin herringbones and golden ropes/
    treasure every minute and hold it close, cuz I never know when this life might provoke a stroke...
    Image is everything except the truth.

  4. #109
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    I grapple with Sheol, met the devil's daughter, now I'm mackin her well/
    smackin her tail, in a blackened motel then I'm throwin her back into hell/
    you deaf, dumb and blind, can't learn to sign, plus you lackin the braille/
    to feel what I write from the steel and the nights when I was back in a cell/
    I excel well, this verse is certain to hurt yo heart like darts from a burner/
    but these words go further than murder, it goes much farther than fervor/
    birds of a feather spark on the fertile herbal, it's an artist's precursor/
    if you a truth searcher, these words is like the AOL and Ted Turner merger/
    so I dare any cake-ass web-surfer, "real Hip Hop" mercenary to murmur/
    my medleys may turn ya from musical shepherd to my g.o.a.t.-herder/
    that's for KRS or the rest of the so-called vets that judge who the best/
    you ain't never seen my front steps or bought a bag of these d-r-u-g-s...
    Image is everything except the truth.

  5. #110
    courage under fire War and Peace's Avatar
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    nice heat P!

    GOLDEN ARMS REDEMPTION



    'Forked tongue make painful kisses...........and fam, when you talk, then the angels listen.'

  6. #111

    Default

    I could destroy your run-of-the-mill rhyme schemes/
    I spit crack, you speak pipe dreams, these flames will melt you ice creams/
    you the type to bag up gram sacks of shwag and brag, callin it light green/
    you the type to take your re-up money and blow it all on a wide-screen/


    enjoyed that that most keep at it man and i'l be in from tyme to tyme

    Tables Turn..Which Made it Worse, Engaged N' Searched..
    for a Way ta' Learn, how ta Take tha' Curse of the Weight of Earth
    Incase it Curved, and Strained my Nervous System..
    Rage it Burst, n' Explained in Words how ta Further Wisdom


    Take ya life plus ya afterlife -Bloodshed

  7. #112

    Default

    Quote Originally Posted by Prophet Picasso View Post
    I am legend, yes, I am brave, a violent slave inside of a lion's cage/
    I get paid Zion's wage to stand tall and spit truth on a silent stage/
    that's how I quiet this strident rage, to sit silent like a Mayan sage/
    insteada firing an iron gauge like I did when I was bout my scion's age/
    now we in the science age, but they still can't find a way to employ/
    I'm finally understandin, I'ma always end up being a d-boy, no decoy/
    the real McCoy, I could destroy your run-of-the-mill rhyme schemes/
    I spit crack, you speak pipe dreams, these flames will melt you ice creams/
    you the type to bag up gram sacks of shwag and brag, callin it light green/
    you the type to take your re-up money and blow it all on a wide-screen/
    then come ask me for a front, shit happens around this time every month/
    yo babymama check ain't came yet, so you here askin me for a free blunt/
    you don't really want to confront me while your bitch is here, do you?/
    cuz I been looked thru you and got a true view of ya heart under that Fubu/
    you ain't no Zulu, I wouldn't even need the two-two to hit chu wit that voodoo/
    they call me Prophet cuz I'm a guru, but they call me Sixx cuz I'm cuckoo...
    this shit right here nigga ! is some true talk

    "you the type to bag up gram sacks of shwag and brag, callin it light green/
    you the type to take your re-up money and blow it all on a wide-screen/"

    ^^one of my favorite lines because i know halfway hustlers like that

  8. #113
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    I'll be there like Tito's brother, when you need some weed then see no other/
    see no evil and cease to covet, I keep a couple p's beneath my cupboard/
    shout out to Karen, she's my mother, even Stevie Wonder can see I love her/
    if you seen me swing you seen my slugger, I'll Jose Canseco a seasoned sucker/
    I drink Jose Cuervo when I eat my supper, most ese's know I see no color/
    black chick in my crib, don't need no covers, I'm too cold and she so gutter/
    I got a hotel suite for my circle, they trollin Swisher sweets fulla purple/
    I'm outside wit o-z's of the herbal, bustin serves wit the heat in my thermal/
    pennin prophecies in my journal, Wu Tang is forever but Prophet P is eternal/
    the microwave poppin d by the kernel, in the cyber age gotta leap any hurdle/
    candlelight vigil if a fiend on they Herschel cuz I got the heat in my girdle/
    composin a Constantine concerto, some nights is too black to see the inferno/
    the streets is nocturnal, these words is hurtful to the external listener/
    urban Krishna, it's time for a Hip Hop lockout, I'm the verbal commissioner/
    send you back to ya suburban peninsula, holla back when the season start/
    til you start to release a spark, yo cheapened art ain't worth a cuisinart...
    Image is everything except the truth.

  9. #114
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    "I spit crack, you spit pipe dreams"...ill...
    $%#&!

  10. #115
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    Default Escape From Seahaven

    If only you knew where the--source of this blue terror/
    was, that keeps knowledge abuzz beneath my New Era/
    cuz--I'm a true seraph in a pair of J's bought from Arabs/
    a Machiavellian ancient alien hangin out my fiery carriage/
    my skill's sickle cell sick so I virally share it, it's buyin me merit/
    but skills can't salvage my marriage or assign me no karats/
    the more I sell dimes of death the more my livelihood perish/
    I'm likely to perish in a barrage of bullets from a sheriff's barracks/
    probly put my body in a generic warehouse, up in the garret/
    but for now I'm up in a terrace wit my parents and my heiress/
    starin at Polaris, cherishin the evening, speakin in esoterics/
    temple clerics for the one who rose, I don't mean no Derrick/
    I don't need numerics to calculate the years its bout to take/
    for the clouds of hate to make their precious way outta state/
    the pressure stays bout the cake, the hood is way outta line/
    green leaves I gotta rake, even though they made outta pine/
    I speak heat when I salivate, although I'm way outta time/
    to see dreams when I'm not awake, and take grief outta mine/
    speak heat when I salivate, I know that I'm way outta time/
    to see dreams when I'm not awake, and take grief outta mine...

    Don't know where I'm goin, just realized where I've been/
    descended from Annunaki, defended by the jinn/
    intend to stop who mock me, twenty-five in my timbs/
    play me once shame on you, it won't happen again...

    I'm trappin within a corridor in kevlar, wit a forty-four Heckler/
    or I'm on Marion carryin kush for the corner-store regulars/
    I'm a warrior senator, born to form metal from worn pebbles/
    shape your plows into swords in accord with the Lord's rebels/
    my pores drip sweat aboard levels of hell, can't avoid devils/
    my loins tremble at the thought of rot inside of a void temple/
    a mind is a terrible thing to taste, Ray Liotta, Anthony Hopkins/
    if I get jammed up, I'm poppin, unless I got the insanity option/
    I have to be cautious, my son ask why people buy these ziplocks/
    better he see it from me then learn about it from Hip Hop/
    better to buy him some J's than give him some flip flops/
    better to lie here some days than to ride round wit nick rocks/
    cuz you'll get stopped on this block if you in Tahoes or big blocks/
    so I avoid the pig cops at all costs, like potholes and pit stops/
    my motto's to get gwap, stay grounded til the mother ship lift off/
    used to get pissed on, now I'm pissed off, Truman Burbank, Christof...
    Last edited by Prophet Picasso; 10-29-2011 at 10:05 PM. Reason: Excessive revelation
    Image is everything except the truth.

  11. #116
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    I don't feel no hope for rap, so come kneel to the new pope of rap/
    these spoken raps are potpourri for dope emcees and local cats/
    Optical One, got my focus back, Optimo blunts, got my yoda sack/
    call me for skunk, got the doja packs, God, I'm so drunk off cognac/
    thirteen elbows in grocery sacks, I just came from shoppin/
    Picasso just got his mojo back, now tell me what you coppin/
    bitches run behind me like Flo-Jo's back, I ain't never stoppin/
    snitches wanna dime me, I throw em back, quarterback option/
    fiends wanna find me if I sold em packs, quarters and poppins/
    police know I'm grimy, I told em that, I'm more than a problem/
    I'm more like a monster, a mobster readin Catcher In The Rye/
    my accomplice, he's standin by, preach my message from the sky/
    how can I not pass you by when you learn your lessons from a lie/
    burnt your blessings in the fire of the wretchedness of your pride/
    always keep your gameface everytime, even when messin up inside/
    nestle up aside my ride, beside still waters and heavy tides/
    money made stretchin dimes, Melchizedek's my son so I never tithe/
    never mind, I know some lines is over people's heads almost every time/
    homey, I'm a lion, almost every dime I make is goin toward my pride/
    alpha-male grind, break down the bails til it's count the mail time/
    thirteen pounds for sale time, I'm pitchin cuties like they loosies/
    solid three fifty since it's dewy, three twenty-five if we gucci/
    gotta speak the language if you wanna slang packs where I'm from/
    there's a lotta train tracks, and you don't wanna end up on some/
    get cha ends up 'fore you end up on some quest for the bread truck/
    you can't depend on dead luck, that med must got cha head fucked/
    misled when they said give your best then rest when ya quest's up/
    with that said, I guess my text's up, now acquiesce cuz I'm next up...
    Image is everything except the truth.

  12. #117
    courage under fire War and Peace's Avatar
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    LOVE these last two pieces Picasso!!

    every line is dope, but here are a couple off top that I LOST it while reading>

    I don't feel no hope for rap, so come kneel to the new pope of rap/
    these spoken raps are potpourri for dope emcees and local cats/


    nestle up aside my ride, beside still waters and heavy tides/
    money made stretchin dimes, Melchizedek's my son so I never tithe/

    GOLDEN ARMS REDEMPTION



    'Forked tongue make painful kisses...........and fam, when you talk, then the angels listen.'

  13. #118
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    Jerusalem Thorn




    I penned poems in past lives when the ancient of man thrived/
    my patience is past tense, I pillage pagans as a pastime/
    proper payroll got me poppin, like bacon in a pan, fried/
    but I feel the world on me like I'm taken in a landslide/
    between my girl and my homey, I'm takin my man's side/
    trustin a chick over the clique is the reason my mans died/
    tryin not to drink again but I keep a reason to backslide/
    I got baptized in blood once I was stabbed in my backside/
    now I'm pickin scabs in my Lac ride, cream-toned vinyl top/
    watch for crabs with my cat eyes, while I make my final stop/
    let Lionel drop, runnin with the night til my spine'll pop/
    when I die time'll stop on the face of Zion's primal clock/
    the Mayans were misinformed, 2012 is when I'ma spit a storm/
    which will transform to a swarm of locusts sworn to scorn/
    in the eighties I was born, but before Adam I was formed/
    before atoms were conformed, and before Azazel was warned/
    so blow the ram's horn, adorn the halls of every dorm/
    for on the morn of my coming I'll harvest Jerusalem thorn/
    and scorch the fields of corn, then it's back to my forte/
    teachin you how to conquer like I did the Vikings in Norway/
    never speak in haste or poor taste, my psyche is gourmet/
    think fast, food for thought, I ain't ate in four days/
    been prayin for my homeboy facin fourteen in his court case/
    but today we remain tippin packs on this porch, blazed...
    Image is everything except the truth.

  14. #119
    courage under fire War and Peace's Avatar
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    ^heater. really really loved reading this piece!

    GOLDEN ARMS REDEMPTION



    'Forked tongue make painful kisses...........and fam, when you talk, then the angels listen.'

  15. #120
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    Default Overdue Empathy

    In the booth, confession time, Hail Mary Jane, bless the pine/
    set these rhymes next in line, Section Nine next election time/
    no question, I'm mentioned by precious dimes smoke session times/
    this endless shine tends to blind wretched swine, seven signs/
    seven seals, separate grinds, sellin pills, several times/
    set the deal, severed ties, if you trill then you empathize/
    with the plight of the Wandering Jew, don't call me no fool/
    calmly remove ya Mauris and take the jewels I'm offering you/
    rumors you heard are probably true, not cocky, but awfully rude/
    Emmo Bee, that's why my Monte is blue and my laundry is too/
    catch me on the avenue or thru shops where coffee is brewed/
    softly I soothe your soul with psalms in the calmingest mood/
    ain't no exception to the rule, if you steppin you a fool/
    a questionable move when you show irreverence to the crew/
    this is overdue empathy, sent to my most respected enemies/
    selective entities sent to be friends to me, sentimentally/
    I got pity for any of those who selectively get next to me/
    who were meant to be snakes first and fake friends secondly/
    Pimpin Ken pedigree, mouthpiece make yo daughter get buck/
    get stuck for hours in the shower, snort powder, get fucked/
    no coward, the kids tough, I climb towers with big blunts/
    I'm Dwight Howard in big trucks, high power and big bucks/
    I might pound her and get drunk, and in five hours I'll get up/
    take a nice shower, get lit up, all that 'fore she sit up/
    no rest for the weary, no bread for the bitches near me/
    so it's clearly said, this thread should be stickied, hear me/
    you fairies are nearly dead, merely a Sex in the City series/
    we got guns like Sons of Anarchy, you are departed dearly/
    your heart is purely glass, phantom in a white, pearly mask/
    I'm quite early for the trophy, but I'll prematurely ask/
    don't make me show my dirty ass, ya flow is surely trash/
    flames on you wordy crabs, burn you slow then stir the ash/
    got my fo' securely clasped, don't you ask for no reefer/
    this pain shall surely pass while gettin ass at my leisure/
    seen both sides of the fence, the grass was never greener/
    so I hold tight to my sense, my grasp is getting weaker....
    Image is everything except the truth.

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