Bridge The Gap

I think it’s time for rap, to bridge the gap, from obnoxious to conscious, electro shock this, zero ... and turn him into rap’s hero, who rhymes so spiritual, a linguist that’s lyrical, a hysterical miracle, a dapper rapper way more empirical, actual and practical, with spectacular, vernacular, expresses language more crafty, shows he has word mastery, there just has to be, somebody to take the lead, not blinded by wealth or greed, who doesn’t feel the need, to please these musical thieves, displeased at these hypocrisies democracy decrees, don’t initiate, the hate, that breeds, revolutionary mentalities, idly leaving them bleeding conceding retreating and abandoning casualties, when actually, their nastily, crafting hip hop's notorious inglorious killing spree ... hastily, basically distastefully, ungratefully and hatefully, taint a G, ruin his image, portray him a gimmick, cause u lack the knowledge of a college level limerick, I’m sorry u claim fame, by selling out your name, u have no talent or originality, you’re palpably a fallacy, so callous with malice, too money hungry to pick Jesus' chalice, u cowardly scour, oh how u prowl power, reeking foul like bowels, just a brainless drone that follows, your heart’s cold and hollow, unbelievably mad shallow, a little noncommittal with brittle bone marrow, your mind’s narrow, undivine, unkind, defined a swine, at the table of deceit is where u dine, while I’m headed towards the exit sign, I gots to get out of here, there’s lots of sodemy and fear, don’t bother to holla the evil lair, unless u can conjure a care bear stare, ain’t no fantasy here, I’m talking reality son, kicking the crap out of your battle rappin’ ass for fun, with murderous verses, that disperses the curses, the merciless jerks, that lurk in the dirt, with absolutely no self-worth since birth, no honor or dignity, nor a prophetic ability, u impact so minimally, your conflict is just inwardly, leaving u bitterly jittery, far from a visionary, unlegendary, can’t hold a melody, ain’t no misdemeanor a felony, speak with the beat, if u can’t take a seat, let’s keep the rap game sheik, the future looks bleak, when what u say is weak, gangsters are definitely not meek, in fact they’re always anxious to compete, just admit your defeat, and let music be run by the sweet elite! - Joe Conscious Vacca


Peace and 1

8/22/08