DETOX UNIT
143
Supplying the fire, fortifying the hot box
Untying the wire, tired of life's frequent cock blocks
Bellowing from the gallows, I'm reaching from the bottom
Only then my finger's shadow shallow, reality's a problem
I can hear the sobs of a sister, she walks alone in this desert
The crescent moon of a deathwatch serves her husband a present
I'm shocked cause the world like sporting blindfolds and blind eyes
The time folds the right ties to reverse removal of bright skies
Being told to stay peaceful, don't joust with these jesters
But my festering soul armed with pain to settle interjection
Is it an infektion that change the paleness of their congestion
Coughing offerings nesting the pesters from being sequestered
I guess testing the texture will only ruffle the few left
Still letting a brewed death resonate, penetrate like lewd sex....
Now I'm restocking prudence, my life, re-cocking newness
Re-lock fluent ties to truth, re-spotted union in this detox unit
Trajik
ah so what, i need to grow up
twenty eight, plenty of waiting, the grown up still needs to show up
act so tough like i know stuff, but you know what? i'm simply so dumb
conniptions fitting as my restrictions 'cause anger makes bad decisions
listen, i envision myself on a mission and fixing my nutrition
with the energy of fission, i'm driven to glisten all the friction
i feel like the bucket of nails left out in the rain... rusty
try but i'm subject to fail - something needs to adjust me
finally i think i'm venison, game to attempt a bit of medicine
i don't want to stress again, on this same level of aggression
call myself a writer proudly, but my writing lately is lousy
can't write in silence when all my distractions think so loudly
thought i was smart, but why does my head seem so cloudy?
this rhyme scheme is a metaphor for my twenties
it started strong but became a mediocre ending
i want to rage against the machine and put my Reebok through it
feeling like bulls on parade, it's why i need the detox unit
YD
I'm sick of always feeling like a failure or second best,
I'm 2 seconds away from not catchin my breath
On the brink of death less than a step away
Been depressed for days but I'm obsessed with the daze
I keep pressin play to this music
To express the way I'm feelin before I lose it
I'm just an abscess stickin out in the crowd
I never expected the silence to get so fuckin loud
Just look at me now
Look at how I'm feelin with a perc in my mouth
Listen to the sound of me tryin to work it out
My mind be doing donuts while depression circles around.
I just be smiling like a clown without the fuckin circus in town.
So if you think you really know me then you can blow me,
Cuz you don't know shit except for the shit that I talk about homie.
I'm sick of all this awkward dog shit conversation cuz when I'm walkin;
I'm just fantasizing bout how often I could fill up a coffin
Doused in self hatred and set ablaze so if it's my thoughts that I'm lost in,
You gonna be the first victim on the second page if you even start talkin.
I drop bombs on myself daily like Russians in Syria
You think you can hurt me but you ain't me so you don't meet the criteria.
I live life like an angry rap song so I just beatbox through it,
And the only place I find my peace is inside the detox unit.
Emily
Uninfekted, I was sweet and serene
Not much about me was rude or obscene
A little shy maybe, and a lot more clean
But then 143 became the wine to my brie
Unlocking shackles and setting me free
And it was so worth my while
If only just for my smile
I've got you lot…RB on chrome
so when I get here it's like, ‘Honey I’m home’
Family don’t understand me the way that you do
I hate half of them but I love all of you
Emilyinthepool, you poets harpoon it
Straight through my heart in this detox unit
Enoch Light
Check it. . .
I’m in a class alone multi-faceted to crack a dome
These raps we own are heavy enough to collapse ya zone
Perhaps I’m known for the poetic craft I’ve shown
Fuck a throne, I’m sewn into RB’s fabric & bones
This fact is known, my flows like packing chrome
I blow wigs back every track I spit crack and own
Honed in attacking with hands wrapped in stone
Spits so sick it’ll leave ya folded in half ‘n prone
Clone emcees get blown out and left un-known
Put the cone of silence on crews like a muted phone
I puke tones more musically moving then those
Who think they even compete on the level I rose
From Blood and bone, I compose deadly prose
I made it home. . Detox until death, or until I over dose
(Drops the mic)