ANT the RANT Brass Knuckle Poets Society's blog: "Words"

Each1 Teach1 BrassKnucklePoet said:


you can stay primpin, ima stay pimpin these written shurikens into a verbal whirlwind encouraging competition to flourish until the world ends...


oh these silly sapiens, im sprinklin color across the page like painting with sick gradients, minglin with fellow aliens, walkin across seas on breezes or stiff tail winds..im ridin until the rail ends..orgasm. then cold grabbem and makem go tell they male friends..todays the day the sale ends, raincheckin and wreckin all comers with all ailments.terminally ill but still spitten prevention medicine..step up and catch rebuttal from these distinguished gentlemen...


ArcheType (Marq) said:


Hear dat pimpin...Hurlin shurikens?
iight, Im like street fightin Ryu screamin ArrrhhYuhket
Or Killer instinct inflicting combos out my tool kit
Harken back to yester years of dat ill shit
When reminisce over of you was the illest
Or Paris was spittin that militant tip for the realist

Lie: 'when ya buy a rap record.. do ya buy it for dance moves? or do ya buy tracks cuz the lyrics are smooth.?
Cuz if ya wanna dance you should stick with the other ones, an leave this dawg alone until the dancin is done...'


S-A-double-V - Brass Knuckle Poets Society said:


...until the world ends and the dancin' is done, I'll be makin' bars bend - yeah, I'm fast wit' it, Son. The disease I got flash like a gun - Picasso wit' my tongue... I could paint a stanza, autograph, and fax it to ya'. My lyrical lasso is long - accurate like my eyes affixed to a fat-ass, in a thong. Pass me the baton and I got choice but to run... blink once, and I'm already gone... curlin' syllables around nouns and verbs, makin' 'em menage et trois... high-def wit' the blazey-blah. You can hear, taste smell and touch... my thoughts - hazy? Nah... like ecstacy on cocaine - but way more raw. Until the world ends, I'll be in a circle, curlin' grape around purple, tradin' verbals - exhalin' combustables out my jaws...


Ant the Rant of Brass Knuckle Poets Society said:


Breathe out a heatwave, the prodigy seeks play, since the streets days, of roamin like a Roman, in Bellvitge, I'm a long ways from my home, different continent- I'm grown, off on my own, but with confidence shown, I never copy or clone, sloppy or thrown, when I rock these microphones, step off, leave it alone, or like my cock you'll get blown, right before I'm gone, Nena de pelo marrón, como Eva Perón, I'll leave a spot on the top of your tail bone, and sail on before dawn.


ArcheType (Marq) said:


Riigh Riigh, We be flying friendly skies, Rhymes & lyric's the high,
Where soliloquies massage similes so deeply that metaphors get envious
Spittin syllables for these silly bulls.. shit choke artist,
wrap they tongue around they mind, got both of'em str8 twisted..
Like ZOOOM .. over they head cuz they missed it,
Get ya weight up, get ya mind right
You over par in the course called life
Intellect lacks so you call it collect
No honor in ignorance, Whats to respect?
Haha, this a rope-a-dope, an u tha joke
It dont stop with a tko, No mercy, nope.
Cuz I brutally beat busta's brainless
A beast bustin bones... but blameless


S-A-double-V - Brass Knuckle Poets Society said:
I'm blameless... naked, I stand shameless. Flawless, like a ninety degree angle - she can't name this. We'll call it ice-pick penetration. Priceless; my ism is art - they need to frame this. I steal her breath, and leave other Alpha's nameless... Jon-Doe-Toe-Tag and open casket face lift. Beta's and Gamma's... well shit, they get castrated - shhh... don't be agitated, it'll be painless. I got balls like Rodeos, so bring the pain - I'll entertain it. Capricorn - overcoming obstacles is my nature... my life, pursuant to trials and tribulations. I'm certified, purified... by the fire and the flame; I'm used to bein' hated, so stand in line and keep waitin'. I throw up the Devil's Horns and I'm skatin'…


ANT ᵀᴴᴱ ЯANT of Brass Knuckle Poets Society said:

Wit triples sixes, I blitz this, mic, wit the quickness, gifted, but on some sick shit, it's a habit when I rip this, flesh, like some slit wrists, on ya mistress, she put on a good show tho, sorry you missed it, drip-drip, is what it did-did, when this kid, slid, his dick in, the chicken, was kickin', pulled her in, the kitchen, trash compact'in, fliped the switch'n, put her fist in, watch'n her grimacin', grinnin, as I'm listen'n, her insides twistin from the pain it's in... I'm vio'lent, the moans went sio'lent, tried to untie her when, I thought I heard some sio-rens, I think it's time to say bye my friends... lock your doors or else I might come by again.


-Each1 Teach1-BrassKnucklePoet said:

he's triple 6's,
im stickin to double digits..
snake eye'n on the prize
like anacondas on sick midgets..
i smoke until im lifted..
needing handicapped assistance,
with a gold medalist's persistence
im shaping my own existence
into something thats consistent.
with this lil life o'mines,
im spitten'til its quitin time
whend you ever design a line,
to baffle one of mine?
competitions fine ..
but lets lay it on the line..
if you wanna tussle with muscles
you'll get smashed to turnbuckles.
catch knuckle and chuckles
from this cat and his hustles.
cause im rustling wranglers
and dismembering strangers.
come and walk with me
we'll discuss our inner angers...