Pass the Torch (143 and Prophet Margin)
The first verse (including bolded) is 143, the second verse (including italic) is Prophet. Just to clarify, since a couple people have seemed unsure. lol.
PASS THE TORCH
I stand on the edge, facing the sunshine
Reverbing beckoning words that came from a young mind
Trusting the legacy is a big deal, listless and priceless
Only deeded in willingness to the righteous
And my successor has the skills, been crafted through baselines
Consciousness of steel, scriptures lay broken, molded face time
This power come with responsibility, humbleness and civility
Instability will bring soliloquies of dumbness and humility
Visceral ability instantly grant wishes of grandeur
I trust he can intimately handle the mission, not hamper
So I walk to the lab where amongst 808's and 1200's stored
Reflecting on the platinum tracks and vicious raps were scored
Crowned the Oratorical King, weighing what passing would bring
In what fashion it would sting, different voice grafted could sling
Texting to meet where I hold all my battle tools and arms
Soon he greet, yet cold, so I sit to sooth the alarm
Handed a torch that lights when he should spit on the mic
Respooled with the last scripture that I would write....
Been to the top, now it's time to come down
Created a dominant MC out of a class clown
From mentor to student, you made it prudent
That you are the next leader of the movement
With the darkest time with the lackluster rhymes
You'll fine solace that will fluster other minds
I will watch how you take the future and make it
So I pass this torch, destiny born, go and take it
Old style warriors once dope now reviled
Too many trials compiled miles on old legs in denial
Wicked vile rhymes now non-existent; losin their guile
But the day is saved, turn the page, turn the dial
Fractional Minutes split degrees and make the segment dope
Making my presence known, known as the present hope
Diction of an emperor, yet inspired by what peasants wrote
Peer thru the 7th scope, behold the half crescent globe
Section of the nebulous that follows Prophet to the Exodus
The edifice of Y3K hip hop in full blessedness
Emphasis on the restlesness of work on dopeness' precipice
Waiting to be born in full flight and recklesness like Pegasus
Ossified membranous protection from the best of us
Spittin in tongues with no forks, but the truth is venemous
My mics name is Apollo, cuz he lights up the stage
My pen is Phoenix, cuz he dies rises again, and ignites the page
Producing words scorching my tongue, then torching the sun
Job's ancestor; ill fight to death until God force me to run
An emcee soldier that does more than endorse the gun
Whack Ass Rap policing action, full intention to enforce the puns
But what will i do when i lose the gift and they come for me?
Return to the old teachins of sages preachin like 1-4-3
Keep that sword sharp, stop sinkin it into your own scripture
Cuz what the writers written is right if you wrote it, doesnt that figure?
Never get complacent and lose emnity for the enemy
Cuz say "all together" and "we" too much and thats the end of "me"
Since i was young you taught me these lessons every session
Posession of dope skil was my obsession, our profession
Demands a balance of expression and agression
Respectively spiritual and physical in conception
Finally found direction- able to spit and script the cold horror
Im ready, battlefield 2012- Pass the Torch old warrior
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