Therapy in Rhythm
I pen scriptures like a monk with a platinum pen, Dreams vivid, painted thoughts on a pad again, Never static, I’m electric when the static ends, Flipping syntax, sharper than a battle lens. City cold, but my soul got a solar flare, Move smooth, like a phantom in open air, Bars tight like the laces on a soldier’s pair, Every rhyme hit hard like a folded chair. Came from the dirt, made gold with the sediment, Now I drop gems, every verse is a testament, Flow heaven-sent, got 'em questioning the measurement, Built different—ain’t no glitch in the regimen. I spit truth, every line got a backbone, King talk—got the crown in my zone, No clone, this is work from the soul’s tone, I don't just write bars—I carve 'em in stone. I'm Moses with the staff splitting beats in half when I rap you see the hunger in my eyes this a lifetime grind bars hit harder then a landmine ryme my wins repetitive i catch these mc sleeping like --- I paint visions with the pen, like a prophet in the mist, Every sentence like a prism where the light and shadow twist. I’ve been walking through the static with a rhythm in my chest, Life’s a test with no eraser, just a canvas for the mess. Dreams heavy like the crown on a poet in the rain, Still I dance between the drops, never folding from the strain. Got a notebook full of hopes, scars inked in every page, Spitting verses like a sage at the edge of every stage. Time bends when I rhyme, I escape the clock’s cage, Everyw line another step through this page Hope’s fragile as a feather in the winds of regret, But I soar with every letter, never crashing just yet. Eyes open, mind focused, soul stitched with intent, This is therapy in rhythm, not just words that pay the rent this is God sent b
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I pen scriptures like a monk with a platinum pen, Dreams vivid, painted thoughts on a pad again, Never static, I’m electric when the static ends, Flipping syntax, sharper than a battle lens. City cold, but my soul got a solar flare, Move smooth, like a phantom in open air, Bars tight like the laces on a soldier’s pair, Every rhyme hit hard like a folded chair. Came from the dirt, made gold with the sediment, Now I drop gems, every verse is a testament, Flow heaven-sent, got 'em questioning the measurement, Built different—ain’t no glitch in the regimen. I spit truth, every line got a backbone, King talk—got the crown in my zone, No clone, this is work from the soul’s tone, I don't just write bars—I carve 'em in stone. I'm Moses with the staff splitting beats in half when I rap you see the hunger in my eyes this a lifetime grind bars hit harder then a landmine ryme my wins repetitive i catch these mc sleeping like --- I paint visions with the pen, like a prophet in the mist, Every sentence like a prism where the light and shadow twist. I’ve been walking through the static with a rhythm in my chest, Life’s a test with no eraser, just a canvas for the mess. Dreams heavy like the crown on a poet in the rain, Still I dance between the drops, never folding from the strain. Got a notebook full of hopes, scars inked in every page, Spitting verses like a sage at the edge of every stage. Time bends when I rhyme, I escape the clock’s cage, Everyw line another step through this page Hope’s fragile as a feather in the winds of regret, But I soar with every letter, never crashing just yet. Eyes open, mind focused, soul stitched with intent, This is therapy in rhythm, not just words that pay the rent this is God sent b
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