BUILDING BLUEPRINT
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Lyrical Analysis of...
Shantytowns
- Round and around, army of scary clowns,
- with crowns and frowns upside down.
- we revolve towns burning them down.
- In the shantytowns bounds we hustle,
- all the bushes rustle concealing trouble.
- Conspiring puzzles, for you to fumble,
- but just jumble and topple.
- Frontal into a jugful of rubble.
- Rumple paper into a bundle,
- light this paper and huddle,
- in a bubble, you funnel a tunnel,
- pummel into this rubble,
- into a tussle until they buckle.
- Submerging from a mucky puddle,
- ready to rumble, shout not mumble,
- never to stumble.
- I'm despicable, invisible to your visible visual,
- it's typically explicable... In this movie i'm biblical.
- Rated PG thirteen! but way overseen by preteens,
- light the gasoline, and create a bright scene.
- It's typical how traditionally i position a syllable,
- so as an individual if you feel invisible
- scream the unthinkable, hospitable divisional
- refillable to each conditional visual.
- Vial filled with... foul, nasty, filthy... vile bile,
- stains teeth like tiles when split on my milky smile,
- dial down the denial, a trial is in idle,
- vital to my revival, my spinal is in a spiral, forms tribal.
- Whispers in the darkness. Alone i am harmless,
- but in this darkness gathers an army of artists,
- preparing for the harvest. Your body's carcass,
- put on the black market, skin sold as garments.
- We are artists, darkness is our calmness.
- Forever we harness the power to be as harsh,
- as the scars cut, starved of blood, clot,
- flood hot with steam 'n' whatnot.
- In this world we walk hot, stand atop,
- nothing will stop us from taring it up.
- nothing will stop us when we are locked shut.
- nothing but someone will always judge us,
- and this cycle will never stop. What the fuck,
- fuckty fuck fuck, lets rip shit up and fuck,
- like animals rutting, loving, lusting, fucking,
- humping, nope... Just a couple of cannibalizes hugging.
- I'm going to use my pen to write rhymes
- they'll put shivers in your spines,
- maybe jab you in the eye several times.
- Recline from the incline you climbed,
- shift time, drift into a swift roller coaster lift
- enter a mist, twist, barrel role and all that shit.
- Jump posing a Kong fu kick,
- instead i misled, and i hit you with a closed fist.
- You'll be pissing blood from your wrists
- when i slit them with a knife, drawn from my hip,
- knit the numeral 6 into your skin with string but slip,
- blood flows thick, sewing kit needed to stitch.
- Poke you with a pin and watch you twitch,
- you mother fuckers could pitch utter wonders,
- but I'll be crushing your head in between cupboards,
- or the shutters till your head pops reddish colors.
- YAK! Mother fucker, YAK! Pull the glock back, finger tap,
- bullet battles the barrel then SMACK. You're face will crack,
- another snack to hack, I'll put it on the body stack,
- next to the skinned ducks that still quack.
- Like Dexter, former Hannibal Lector,
- In his daily trisector, dissecting ladies in the sector.
- Your next on the list, please don't freak out and piss...
- bitch i need you to stay with me please,
- don't make me pee pee in your mouthie,
- I'll rather not get my dick outie,
- with Hannibal Lector around me...
- I'm a insane mother fucker, yes in the brain,
- sulfur grains all up in my domain,
- and all it takes is one spark,
- two tarts playing harps,
- three large carts full of tards crammed into an amusement park,
- four more tarts playing harps
- to sum up six hearts when i carve them apart.
By Anonymous
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What is a Blueprint?
A blueprint is like a report card for your lyrics. It contains a lyrical breakdown and analysis of all the words, syllables, and rhymes in your song.
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