EPISODE · May 20, 2024 · 3 MIN

Our Last Rights Left

from #StoriesAboutSongs · host RedefineHipHop

88 minus 52, that’s the goal 36 Black Keys, let the good times roll Abstract in approach, assassin with a fraction of hope Apply pressure, that’s like smashing a roach Last of the quote, “Masterpieces, passionately wrote’ Going for broke, got my comp casting a vote At the contest of champions, the best worldwide I’ll test my stride, push some of the best aside I pressed, applied pressure, to compress ya size Then let the rhyme spray like some pesticide Pressurized, ya finally get to rest ya eyes Get extra live when I start X-ing lives I testify, I’m guilty of MC torment We can battle for respect or we can battle for rent I’ll battle four men, same time, battering ram And when foes become fans it’s so flattering fam Gather and plan, conspire how to shatter the man But I’m unbreakable, take a crew, shorten their lifespan Mic in my right, and I write with the left I’ll write till my death, it’s one of our last rights left, YEP Now, as far as second verses, this is one for the books Unread on a shelf…still as fun it as looks Odd as sounds, it pounds cause the bottom is round The problem I found is coping with a bottomless style No limits or bounds, or gimmicks, mixed with primitive sounds Plot to astound till placed into plot in the ground Rot with a smile, free from the grip of the vile It’s my birthright to write, I won’t stop, I vow Been rocking while, never sought cash from a cow MCs try to act fly then the crash in the crowd My past in clouds…I’m lost in space RIGHT NOW So Imma rhyme for my life as long as passion allows Savage Intellect, all about balance of the scales On a different frequency, yeah, song of whales Get caught in current, try and figure out what ’s occurring Now ya learning, what thought you were, YOU weren’t Lines you’re blurring, could lead you on the road to a hurting My stats speak for self, but who can really say for certain Thrill of the hunt, overkill, Atilla the Hun Gorilla with gun, accurate, can kill or can stun Some call me Raka, the holder of the unknown scrolls Digging deeper everyday, long live the Moles I give my closing statement as I stay composed And our last rights left is the life I’ve chose