Last Sunday many of you enjoyed the poetry found in my weekly column. I thought I would take the “rap” concept of rants and rhymes, while dropping dimes, and have a little more fun.
I have very specific rules when I write.
In creating cRAP I threw most of them out.
Before I began I did a quick search of the best “rap lyrics”.
For me to use any of them I’d have to throw out ALL of my rules as well as any sense of humanity.
Just can’t do that.
When it comes to the gutter…well if I’m in it I’m done talking.
So with a touch of a grin, let the facts begin.
Rapping ain’t hard, they aint no rules, just thump a beat and Shaqtin a fool.
When Biggie is Smalls and Tupac’s a poet, 420’s to blame, dontcha know it.
Legalize it all, pot cures cancer, as crumpled up cash spanks the local dancers.
A bleach blond bimbo dropping bombs on ladies, Slim Shady say what, let’s rob Haiti.
His name is what? His name is what? His name is Jan Brady.
Marcia Marcia Marcia you make me yack, Stan, Afghan, Lieutenant Dan, sounds like Chiraq.
Whatchoo talking bout Willis asked Gary C, forty years later, still no Hillary.
Dems subhuman, approvin vacuumin’, late bort tombin’ rose no bloomin’, “blacks and the poor” headstone groomin’.
Margaret Sanger, Bill’d banger, back alley hangers, but say no to mangers, heaven can wait, too much danger,
Her name is what? Her name is what? Her name is Ben Gatey.
Black lives matter, yeah says who, clowns that can’t spell Pinnie the Wooh?
Rick with a P, itch with a B, I just named Barack, and Jay Zee.
Aks me no questions I’s tells you no lies, if you know what I said, then yes, I’d like fries.
Bert and Ernie taught the ABC’s, now theys a Bernie teaching social disease.
Castro’s cool, Che all hail, Weinstein’s cash kept him out of jail.
Misogyny progeny, slope slippin’ Obamany, leading to neuropathy down the drain of progressive monopoly.
Ben, Matt, and George were all aware, but keep it real yo, bare mare is fair.
They got theirs, Harvey got his, who’s to care, not the Libs.
See rapping is easy cuz rules don’t matter, when strikes aren’t called everyone’s a batter.
We have a fungus among us,in the Waters Maxine, you know Bill’d hit that, back in his teens.
Damn right that last line’s crass, but “everyone’s doing it”, showing they ass.
Puckered lips, nips that slip, underwear strips, pants don’t fit, Portlanders on trips, too many hits, internet pimps, Bloods and Crips all ripping off Gladys Knight and the Pips.
Their name is what? Their name is what? Their name is Blank Slatey.
Locke or Rousseau, Naughty by Natcha, it’s called the truth, not cause I hatcha.
Unhappy, don’t blame me, you’re a member of society.
For a picture clearer, find a mirror, Lady Liberty’s screaming, HEAR HER.
Give rap a shot, it just aint hard, theys all sound like a bunch of tards.
Grills of gold, neck tats to remind us, what idiots sound like with gingivitis.
Yes I know, I enunciate, I come from the sticks where we don’t procreate.
Like rabbits in heat, EBT cheats, behavior repeats, sheep on the bleat, progressive peeps dropping kids on the street, with promises of free meat and wheat.
Spin your lies, your tales of woe, just stop “spitting” about bitches and hoes, spend more time at Fishes and Loaves.
Crystal and cash, like a bunch of chumps, not long ago ya begged, for the money of Trump.
Now with no basis, he’s a racist, who’s faithless, froth the saneless, meth and Khat make it painless.
What the fuss, shook my head in disgust, how long is that short bus?
That bus is yuge, the stench is strong, can hear em now, bring on the gong.
This ain’t rap, dis is lyrics, you need a beat to hear us, cheer us, fear us.
Oh word baby bird, you’ve been heard, you just don’t know the difference, between nouns and verbs.
Let’s stop pretendin’ and spendin and focus on the endin’.
Those that are left better focus on the mendin’.
Through the char, bars, scars, crashed cars, and D.O.R’s your time, is now “ares”.
Yes that should’ve been OURS…FO SHO.
But if I didn’t tell you, YOU’D NEVER KNOW.
Be skinning that truth, just like the cat, not some candy baking, shady making, parasitic gnat.
Peace out and word to your mums, progressive harlots raising bums in slums.
That’s right I just said it, not that it matters, you can’t “red” it.
Chuck D, K Stevie, Greggie P, Slick Willie, Dems love OPP, Dindunuffin says Hillary.
Their name is what? Their name is what? Their name is slut shaming, hate baiting, masters of, fake ratings.
No you aren’t the bee knees, playa please, too much Democracy, too much cheese.
Keep yo fists in the air, youse so rare, antifa memes, la raza preens, you sound like CAIR.
Or maybe OJ, it just don’t fit, screaming bout healthcare, welfare, and gubmint.
Child molestation, deforestation, an angry nation screaming we’re not Haitian.
A Corey pleas and calls for help, Hollywood is silent, won’t even check Yelp.
Trump said pussy, on the tape, Bernie wrote it down, women like rape.
By three different men, at the same time, liberals just laughed, that isn’t a crime.
See I told ya, this isn’t hard, DC and Acting, a House of Cards.
But dis aint rap, youse didn’ rhyme bigga.
You’re right I didn’t.
Socrateez, please, another gangsta with a sheet, Play Doh who, cracker jus beat feet.
Creator of Western Civilization?
Nope dope, indoctrination, besides we got Kanye Nation, just tripping yo, we gots Play Station.
And that ain’t all, Libs got Snoop, the dawg added izzle, to all the poop.
Shnizzle, my dizzle, little bizzle, nizzle, pizzagateglizzle.
Ah the swan song from the smokers bong, “can’t we all just get along?”
I’m not burdened with the yearning or the turning, cheek’s just fine, it’s all good, I’ll pass on the wine, sober minds would.
I’ve scratched the itch, and relieved my chest, have an American day and God bless.
For those who are Atlas and holding the boulder, you aren’t alone.
Shoulder to Shoulder.
That should do it, no reason or rhyme, we stick to it.
One voice at a time