Throw Flow Down The Road

Rising typing striving for greatness,

Economy thriving my rhymes greatest,

priding myself off rap prying the latest,

most hanus versions of songs,

the slightest imperfection and all the wrongs,

 

All my songs are cynical,

civil radical rotated into your clavicle,

anus raped after your vaginal,

Imagine all the biblical verses,

all the first thirsts squirted into reverse,

After the drout drained your lake third,

 

But even though cynical,

still visible to viable,

reliable bionical words,

Written In third person,

The purpose to propose a toast,

Most close to close the chosen chapter,

 

Rappers rapping bout slapin her,

clap in laughter bastards wannabe rapstars,

Fighting in bars after writing shitty sixteen bars,

ours best be the realist surreal most to appeal,

piece of art upon the rap game chart,

 

Start over sober before your grosness grows groser,

your personalitt grows colder than dry ice in a snow storm,

born to die or your torn between thighs,

high five bitch I'll slice up your rice till ya look like blind micr,

lice eating feces out back where street meets sewer,

newer stew worked harder jerked until you turned martyr.