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>"With out an instrumental" > >Without an instrumental,my poetry,scorches your temple. > >Never simple or ever lame,never in the same terms. > >When I talk it burns,it's like I walk and burn. > >Trails on brains,footprints on all terrains. > >Trails on all membranes,with flames. > >I maintain fire,like an automatic,steady without >static. > >With good reception,for easy comprehension. > >No need for a gun,or ammunition. > >Did I mention,I have two fists,and they get ruthless. > >When I cock back my sleaves,they'll leave you >toothless. > >On the floor you'll be,unable to see,due to swelling. > >Unable to hear,due to yelling,and cheering. > >Blood all over the ceiling,blood still spilling,from >your face. > >You're a disgrace,to me,and the race of MC's. > >You see,can't even keep place,with the pace-car. > >Your rhymes sound good from far,your far from good. > >But if you could,realize you I don't dispise,it's just >writing. > >And I'm just reciting,a poem from behind my eyes. > >From my temple,my poetry,without an instrumental. > >-THA CLEVA 1 > > >"SURE GO AHEAD,AND TRY TO BITE IT. >IT'S LACED WITH LEAD,AND COPYRIGHTED."
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