YranigamI Erolklof

Because I do believe in folklores, because a folk or a

folk whore messed up his world

with a word or more

so furthermore call her life

with a slice of love for the

wife the hip hop drop top

so drop her top and her bottom 4 lines to make love to her

vibes jus 1 more time

and in the morning make love

pressed against her lips so when i woke the mic replaced her finger tips

sippin up a few sips more

so wen she spoke beats hit the floor

and wen the tears splashed synthesized cries for the emcees who died

word to paradox emotion took off like flies

so please forgive the long soliloquy

forgive the silly mannerisms here to over power me

to give these silly little rants with these silly little

rapper hands

jaws drop wen i caught her by a glance

to get in line for my chance

as impossible it seems

I still asked her for the last dance

we bowed out in the night sky

when tears dried wen i told her it would be alright

we made rhythm for the vision

we tucked in the curses for the verses

and rehearsed a different version

so we can create the sounds of a virgin

yet to be touched and yet we all know shes never

heard enuf

Shes only seen in my dreams in between

every scene in my bed sheet

pretty feet and foot notes

help remember what i wrote

so when i awoke with a new song

in reality she helps 2 sing along

shes never seen only heard

through headphones alone

over

over saturated party zones

or even speaker phones

or on the t.v. misrepresented now by them or we,

we turned her out, no doubt we turn her up

turn it off when we don't agree with her new song soft

with her touch to my vision and my rough for the ruff draft

I kiss her sound touch her mic for the craft

she made it possible for us to dwell in the same room

and look pass differences that we still resume

so never press pause for the cause

cuz wen the music plays it distracts me to have a good day

i continue to let her disrobe

recount the first time her sound waves passed through my ear lobe

rememberin the first time

wen she let the beat drop to tell

me yes you "quote" the world is mine

her birth is unknown

un-natural clones grown in her place to try to taker her throne

but we the underground lost or found

whether money made or respect gained will never let her get away

pieces ripped from her by the ones who passed away

and their mics buried under tones

and rip rib Lip to producers still bangin beats under grave stones yo f them ringtones