Chain Letter (ft. Tim, Deviate and Percept)
http://www.rapbattles.com/forum/showthread.php?t=262498
http://www.rapbattles.com/forum/showthread.php?t=262671
Chain Letter
Johnny 6-feet
Read the chain letter, all else is tattered theories
In 2 bars a brain splatters, shattered so clearly
When the people come together for sequels, none is better
As we trend set you fella's for brain storming weather
Born professors of the art, code hackers and freed minds
Teaching lessons for the smart, bold actors and street mimes
And each time a piece is dropped it becomes a prophesy
Which evolves to a philosophy when told properly
I'm possibly a mic messiah with the power to light the fires
The type thats higher, with walk on water lyrics versus you biting liars
So you can shower me with compliments or think i'm deranged
It's Johnny 6-feet signing off, the first link of the chain
Percept
Visualising attacks, before the enemy realises its a battle
A verbal stampede, treadin on ignorance with the effects of cattle
Everlasting endurance, an ill performance, qualities I possess
Psychiatric skills, lyrical diction from your thoughts I suppress
Philosophical phrases, evasive, persuasive and consistently hypersonic
Contradictory emotions, externally tranquil, yet internally demonic
Superior compositions, forcing MC's into deep mental submission
Distinct variations, contrasting in styles like juxtapositions
Multidimensional frames, overturning any legislative campaign
Anarchical malpractice, resulting in the demise of a domain
Revolutionary spits, deep like oceanic waters based on a real theme
Conquering masses, omnipresent visions of mortal street dreams
Deviate
Fumes emit in effervescent plumes of unadulterated doom,
Dilluted with bubbles of sick festering in the corner of our hideout room.
Shouts echo eclipsing the moon, dampening its bright shine,
Eerie glances and unseen travellers manipulate through imparted rhyme.
Yet, intelligence is flawed, in a state like Orwell's nineteen-eighty-four,
This is a political establishment manifested from stories of folk-lore.
Aware of our looming coup, our revolution, our response to their violence,
Thousands of men were shot dead in attempts to reduce us into silence.
Sustained plans emit grams of pure sand barraging revolutionary moves,
Comrades awaiting the command to commence, splinter from their grooves.
An omnipresent, all seeing eye, conquering the masses is disgusting,
Standing at the base of the capitol building with laser sights twitching.
Reading demands of the masses with tears in my eye, bullets cut a swerve,
Tearing air in puncturing, freezing time as one balances on a nerve.
Tim
for they couldn't see, tripped up, and suddenly dumbfounded
so surrounded the intellect, or the lack there of, was compounded
a stepping stone away from the perilous last glance
an intrepid endeavor, tip toes, a meticulous dance
an empowerment bestowed on to the shoulders of some
a picturesque scene, whose peoples words weighed a ton
an over anxious, out spoken group that neither fades or withers
dressed in black, the courts feared them, sending spine tingling shivers
blown up out of proportion, distortion reaching its pinnacle
quite despicable, now blind, momentless, and overly cynical
the endorphin releasing them layed there forever to clad there earth
were passes at freedom, and symbolic of all they were worth
