Fruit to Pit

Replies to This Discussion

Permalink Reply by Romulus Magnellah on October 16, 2009 at 8:55pm

(after intro)

Get through the static, girl.
Turn it, ya'll, tune it.
Walk through the static, girl.
Unit. G-Unit.

On the radios.
Every lady goes. It rolls. It rolls.
Let me lend the heat to your souls.

Rock down when she rolls.

Every woman knows. On the radios.
Every woman knows.
On the radios. Every woman woahs.

Oh, woah, radios.
Turn into the unit.
G-Unit. G-Unit.

▶ Reply to This

Permalink Reply by Romulus Magnellah on October 16, 2009 at 9:40pm

Chord to the socket.
Get it ready.
Shock it. Rocket.
Electric in time.

Get it ready.
Shock it! Rocket!
Guitar on the line.

Let me use it up, right?
In Union... In Union tonight...

ready get it ready.
Flight!

Electric insight.

Lemmy get it right.
Lemmy get it right.
In Union...
The Union...
In Union tonight...

Lemmy get it right.
In Union...
In Union...

▶ Reply to This

Permalink Reply by Romulus Magnellah on November 25, 2009 at 1:03am

Here we go.
Here we go.
Yo. Say Bronx ain't Brooklin.

Hey, yo, go Brooklin ain't Queens.
Go all the way Manhattan are a few in-betweens.

Say Bronx ain't Brooklin.
But Harlem one piece.
Statin Island swimming in the sea, never cease.

Big up the burrows.
Go Biggy the skies.
What up with heroes?
I rap for you guys...

▶ Reply to This

Permalink Reply by Romulus Magnellah on November 25, 2009 at 1:09am

Can you see the soul?
Can you see the soul?
Can't you see the totum pole?

▶ Reply to This

Permalink Reply by Timothy Alan Layne Brusky on October 17, 2009 at 2:44am

whats up with that rhyme, it doesn't make any since.
i got somethin for you, stop repeating yourself over and over fool.
you think your all big and cool well you not, so homie i think you
have lost the style you have.
i can't understand can you see the soul, yo man how does that go.
you heard me, now let me see.
this life isn't a dream, it's not a scheam.
but i'll keep rockin with what i have, but i think its time for to take a fuckin pill
and go to fuckin bed.

▶ Reply to This

Permalink Reply by King Ferrari on October 17, 2009 at 6:13pm

your rhymes like hos
people already gave them a go
like when i started to flow
i took her to eat out
as i fucked from the back
there is no doubt
you didnt know that
your style swallowed the mic
whole all in the first night
she did it all for me,
doing you isnt anything new to her
like she took a henny bottle
she got a head rush
i know you dont wanna battle
you dont want to see me bust
its something different that listenin
like a shotty i'll take ur side of the crowd
i'll buy a thousand caskets
so you can get down
fill each one, everybody blasted
for tough guy acting

▶ Reply to This

Permalink Reply by Romulus Magnellah on December 20, 2009 at 8:00pm

When they take down the warmth and the glow.
Look now...
The season will flow.

Winter. The winter.
The icy wind-chimes.

Winter. The winter.
The death of our times.

Wind climbs.
The wind-chimes.
The winter unwinds.

yeah...

The white cloud will splinter and snow.
Marks of the season.
The winter we know.

Winter. The winter.
The winter will grow.

The white cloud will turn in the rain.
The white cloud will splinter.
The season again...

Winter. The winter.
The winter remains...
Winter. The winter.
The season disdains.
The winds of the winter.
The season remains.

Fire...

▶ Reply to This

Permalink Reply by King Ferrari on October 18, 2009 at 8:42pm

youre a doll not the type i'd give a call
even if you sold your soul
you couldnt get stacks that dont fold
you got more gats that could hold
set on you set to explode
u got no style so no applause
it only comes at a heavy cost
only you know what you're saying
thats why records arent paying
you're out of your mind, insane
not like eminems fame
you're wack admit it
so i can stop spitting
wastin rhymes at a sitting duck
thinking he's gangsta not give a fuck

SERIOUSLY STOP

▶ Reply to This

Permalink Reply by Romulus Magnellah on October 18, 2009 at 9:46pm

I put a Neo-Renaissance into this song.
She's a pretty - pretty thing when she comes along.
So go and tell the other poets up in the frame.
I'm a fourth dimension on another plane.

With a backpack filled up with the right things.
There's freedom in the vision that my good rap brings.

I cold step.
My feet don't hop.
I battle rap.
I battle rap.
I just don't stop...

▶ Reply to This

Permalink Reply by Romulus Magnellah on October 18, 2009 at 11:29pm

To Trinity College

Great Trinity, within your aged cast while life unfolds.
Between two parts, in each, another holds.
We flux and flow for passion keeps on standing.
But know we know great science is demanding.

Now a poet hears your cannons.
And he hears your towers's cries.
For I give, to them, the depths,
So they, to me, give skies.
Great Trinity, between my heart, and mind, my poems rise.

Great metaphysic mountain of the steep.
The hands that count, of clocking time still reap.
And semesters fall out faster than the essence of
What old stone still remains to rise above.
Where a third place contemplates between our eyes.
And each may understand.
And hum inside...

▶ Reply to This

Permalink Reply by Romulus Magnellah on October 21, 2009 at 11:08pm

Rock the street.
Toc...
Talk, Ticky, toll...

Fire to the sticky.
Play the game with me.
Roll...

▶ Reply to This

Permalink Reply by Romulus Magnellah on October 26, 2009 at 12:33am

Right to the street.
The way to go.
Fight to be peaceful.
Radio.

Bright shining wheels on the highway ride.
Stepped on the real after stride.
After stride.

And they play the radio all night after night.
And they get right.
And they get to see to the sight.

Oh, but the world don't have to learn how to fight.
And we could play the radion, on, night after night.

Can't we get right
(GUITAR SOLO)

▶ Reply to This

• First
• Previous
• Next
• Last