http://www.rapbattles.com/forum/showthread.php?t=150982
http://www.rapbattles.com/forum/show...88#post1775388
To 'Nique and SMZ...
Self-Portrait
The mirror is either too broad or too specific
When my handwriting is too sloppy and Im not artistic
Illicit views on my inferior exterior
What time can catch is visible, with morals on my interior
I used to want to develop myself and draw a self-portrait
To crumple up those paper scraps of stick men for a more fit
Depiction of my complection, less horrid than I think
With a life of contentment, it's boring and I dont drink
I want to ensure that I won't blink, miss a fragile moment
With a stable hand, diligent plan with pastles-holding
My head, tilted to sow an image, beyond the gimmicks
To con these mental limericks, the blood and simmer it
But when I consider this difficult procedure to cut the mullet
The way I depict and portray is how I depict a stick man's way
This individual bullet gives me inspiration for today
And my Bible grasps the hope of tomorrow if priorities delay
From my imagination I see a sculpted body of lust
But that thought is Godly in many eyes as daughty of rust
Is a good summarization of everything I ever encountered
Without much approval of my looks, and too pretty to be a bouncer
Your first assumption of a loiter-er, a bum with two cents
Would be of a skinny, pasty crumb, surpassin' a nusense
Just a burden on the mean of society, expressing meaning
But I was a spoiled egg, with malnurished semen, a median
And uncompassionate as a mode, ranging from 1 to ten
Zero men have made me feel sympathetic, from mom to friends
Zero gens have layed me a foundation worthy of an Atlas
Cause I'm the Atlas they put their needs upon this sadness
Wherever dad went, maybe he can supply the mirror I need
Cause he conceived a demon of neglect and has clearer feed
On my resemblance, every second a light once beckoned
Has been burnt out from alcohol or dumbly directed
Introspect; a word reserved for the poetic or a mourner
And autopsy; a noun of those who found me..
From the medics to coroner...
I envied the portrayal of my facial and looks
Thru the fascination of imagination, all it took
Was the neglect of a child without a beautiful smile
And they took my picture of a broken life upon floor tiles
For all the children and people on this planet who never knew how magnificent and majestic their wings really were...
Peace.