The Rhyme Grind

Grinding, a lot of my time is spent refining my rhyme writing. My delivery ability isn’t the highest, but give it time and my critics will be silenced. My rise to success is inevitable ‘cause I devise and revise every thought I decide to write and have my pen draw. This overrides my life, my head’s full of rhyme combinations, can’t maintain concentration. Spending days contemplating optimal narration. Getting through life’s complications by rhyming what my cranium jots on paper. Won’t stop when dosh accumulation is off the scales and it’s impossible to waste the wealth. Yelling with tongue coordination for fun, it’s my form of entertainment. Articulating thoughts is a boredom slayer. This ain’t work, it’s purpose. Not set on greatness, it’s a byproduct of my dedication. Flows are so hot it causes my respiration to give off large quantities of water vapour beyond the normalcy of average exhalers. Rapping fantastically, brandishing lyrics. Practicing with maximum commitment and a tenacity that others can’t mimic ‘cause this isn’t about the cash I reel in. It’s more about having a challenging outlet to shout things when madness kicks in. Want the knowledge needed to stop me? Drive ice picks in my eye sockets, double lobotomy, or kill me off so my body becomes rotten meat and bones. I don’t spit at a velocity that can compete with my opposition’s speed. Proving competency with what my noggin keeps and then deposits in unorthodox schemes. Gotta repeat, my motives ain’t monetary. I wanna be able to show lots of honesty and confidently say what’s bothering me. Gotta keep jotting, I long for the day when I’m not a despondent piece of misery. Reading calms the waters. I read so much that my bars are awesome. So articulate ‘cause I’m the spawn of intercourse between a dictionary and thesaurus. What I spit can be scary, on horror it borders. Maybe I give off a mentally unstable aura. I’m just trying to express the importance of talking, not keeping thoughts balled up. Every night I exercise my northern organ so my rhymes shine like a bright aurora. Attempting genocide on my head’s haunters to lessen coyness and destroy fear of performance. Apprehension about being a non-conformer has gotta stop. As I attract more supporters, I’m getting more comfortable expressing my thoughts to prevent and thwart mental health disorders.