0
 

home
news
wu-tang clan
bio's
media
store
blogs
forum
contact

Go Back   Wu-Tang Corp. - Official Site of the Wu-Tang Clan > The Lab > Temple Of Darts

 
 
Thread Tools Display Modes
Prev Previous Post   Next Post Next
Old 08-15-2007, 11:26 AM   #1
Prophet Picasso
Coming of Age...
 
Prophet Picasso's Avatar
 
Join Date: Aug 2007
Location: Sheol
Age: 31
Posts: 185
Rep Power: 0
Prophet Picasso crouching tiger
Default Picasso's Masterpieces

This thread is a display of the gems that I am occasionally blessed to receive. Your judgment is what I desire most. Elevation only comes through criticism and correction, so I appreciate any words that you are willing to leave.

Lyrical Lariat:
I got more cold cuts than delicatessens, teach you a helluva lesson/
the majority of cyphers is simply celibate sessions sellin digression/
a literal circle of lyrical virgins attemptin to sell an impression/
me? I would rather accelerate affection or just tell of my blessins/
use my bars to ask relevant questions that develop progression/
rip fellas in sections wit a vocabulary deeper than pelicans restin/
now Iíve finally found shelter from hell and the devilís tempest/
when the tempter attempts to tempt this I turn to Jah for defenses/
diabloís defenseless against this intense prayer warriorís senses/
my message is inexpensive if only you would just pay attention/
stay attentive as jury benches cuz the truth gets buried in trenches/
this hurtful violence is endless, the churchís silence is senseless/
celebrities smile for lenses, paparazzi pry in private parties for pensions/
drugs delve deadbeat daddies down demented devilish dimensions/
drunk drivers in S10s bring station wagons down deadly dead ends/
dead friends is what tends to send men to follow suicidal trends/
jumpin street medians, the mediaís teachin us to be greedy and tedious/
our TV is misleadin us, mistreatin us, our seeds is whatís needin us/
Iím never mad whenever pens and pads is my needed ingredients/
my mic is my medium, your attention is whatís needed immediate...

I Forgive You (verse one)
My pain--migrates--like migraine aches/
my strainís--wide placed--like five great lakes/
touchin a number of states, confusion included/
secluded in a dungeon til someone intruded/
imputed purity to my ventricles from verticals/
surged verges of vertigo since I burst from the cervical/
like spiritual surgicals, had emergency transplants/
flashbacks of urgency was purgin me past that/
pack rats ainít concernin me, burnin up Black packs/
these wack cats in backpacks ainít half as abstract/
can you match that classic rap amidst pop singles/
pockets of hot nickels, cold as popsicles wit block lingo/
the single king of neo-soul wit sprinkles of rhyme/
Iím not tryna put a hot iron to this wrinkle in time/
no regrets, holdin vets to they bets, child support debts/
itís treacherous but yet I gets naughty by nature on the set/
that ainít even my best lest distress dares me to stop/
Midwest declare me the best, this sess compares me to Pac/
every single compliment boosts my confidence/
I abhor cockiness, I stay abstinent from obstinates/
Iím a optimist, positive I wonít be stopped by obstacles/
clear cataracts in my opticals wit a whole box of Optimos/
Picasso is better than ever, never ever under the weather/
sever the feather soft, yes, the successor of NebuchadnezzarÖ

Metamorphosis:
Time to rock the boat and ride the ripples, rhymes thatís simple/
get crippled in my mental whenever Iím high off indo/
spit flows from my temple thatíll make yoís decrescendo/
assemble cymbals as the kickdrum make yo chest tremble/
yes, Iím dead broke, ainít tryna make no friends, though/
but if you breakin bread, then you made one to the end, joe/
my pencil is my utensil to stencil my credentials/
at the central of heathens kept from reachin my potential/
prudential since knockin out windows in my residential/
providential, droppin gems so pretend you comprehend those/
Iíve conceived rhymes so deep, you wouldnít even believe/
even if you seen me and heard em breathed between my teeth/
I roll wit thieves, smokin leaves seems to be my lone reprieve/
I teach my boy to read, so my seed come half as dope as me/
heís only three--- wit affection to me sweet as potpourri/
reason enough to bleed, decry greed, and live soberly/
follow authority, stop disorderly thoughts that lower me/
plan trips overseas, speak Portugese wit African minorities/
this vision seem lofty, but too oft we tend to think softly/
now Iím awfully close to gettin this lost mindstate off me/
thank Jah...
Prophet Picasso is offline   Reply With Quote
 

Thread Tools
Display Modes

Posting Rules
You may not post new threads
You may not post replies
You may not post attachments
You may not edit your posts

BB code is On
Smilies are On
[IMG] code is On
HTML code is Off

Forum Jump


All times are GMT -5. The time now is 10:28 PM.


Copyright ©2000 - 2013 The Wu-Tang Corp. & shift-one