D.Greaves

Well Veresed. Never Rehearsed.

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    JUST STYLIN' LIKE THEM BRONX DAYZ

    D'EE CAN'T FLOW NO MO'! HE ALL INTO LOVE AND SPIRITUALITY AN' STUFF...AWWWWWWWWW SHUCKSSSS!

    I dedicate this flip to a cat who shall remain nameless who lived up near Burnside/1-8-3 in the South Bronx(I still owe him 20bucks since like 1985! gotta be interest on that nah mean) and to my sister Twosenuf for real. Yeah and I can't forget Jay-Z who dropped a freestyle wit two's. Oh man..and D'ee(da Hot babe, I see ya lady! We down for life), T-Mobile..Tyrone Mobley(he from Brooklyn but it's all good in the fam) and my new Lil' sista Planted Daisies who be plantin' fool kats like cra-zyyy(the way she be killin' fool kats with her flow..yo fellas don't get on her bad side!)

     

    To be or not to be,

    too many topics I drop on cats with the temerity (that means nerve y'all)

    to think they can touch me,

    I be beatin' tom-toms,

    while they wavin' pom-poms,

    come on mon, I be your Papa-san,

    just because I be up in the Psalms, don't mean I got any qualms,

    embalming you with glue from Guam while I eat a croissant,

    I can't tolerate your toneless torrents,

    I'm gettin' too old for this...HOLD UP! WAIT A MINUTE!

    lemme grab my toiletry, so I can do a one not two,

    like I usta do up on Burnside, freestylin' n profilin'

    for the Rican mamacita's I ate like Doritos tortilla

    chips, my flips totally torturing silly MoFo's

    like I'm a interrogator at Guantanimo...WHOA!

    with that smooth tonality when my tongue torques,

    I tussle then topple tone-deaf toads like a cheap toupee,

    what I say, it's D'ee Day from Ill-I-aye to the Causeway,

    made the ladies sway, back when I was led astray,

    Doze where da DAYYYY'S I had two or three dames in Mar-cey

    projects, catchin' 'em like cliches, pattern 'em like crochet,

    had my cachet, was a Philly cutural attache, them New York ladies loved me,

    touche, catchin' Mets games down at Shea, dem fine N.Y. femmes

    had me rising like a souffle, the way they would sashay,

    yo Jose, teach me some Spanish, so I can man this,

    I can't resist, I insist, somebody call an exorcist, b'cuz these femmes

    got me meltin' like mini-marshmallows in a mug of Swiss Miss,

    yo,

    somebody put a tourniquet on this kat, I got his bowels

     reactin' like double doses

    of Ex-Lax, can't cut him no slack, 'cuz he too cheap to buy a vowel,

    don't he know I take syllabic consonants, an' stretch 'em across the continent,

    until I'm content, that my vents, have the intent, to make the worst sinna' repent,

    like Clark Kent, I take women full of discontent, into my tent,

    and...don't even think like that..I'mma..ummm...GENT-TILL-MAN,

    can produce from my diaphram, the words I cram, into my ram,

    I got to keep slammin' on kats like I'm Kevin Durant,

    yo, I'm a Supa-Neegrow, I got that fierce flow that make Lois Lane go..WHOA!

    I usta curse, in alotta verse, but my sister Tonya is watchin'

    so I gotta be adverse to perverse rhyme perverts and traverse my diverse

    diction while I converse and disperse spyt that make you Sh...Ummm..deficate

    WHEW! man I caught myself before it was too late,

    let me collate these consonants until I make the Eurasian plate brittle like roof slate,

    see, I ain't tryin' to wear a halo, God know, that I can flow,

    with a glow, that ain't gotta be hallow, so with this talent He bestow, I sow,

    seeds of creativity that grow even when it snows,

    the various stages of D'ee, from Afros to S-curls, man..SHUT UP!

    I dunno why I had one, let's just say the 80's was a decade when men

    wore hairstyles like ladies, I tought my drips was kool until they found a dead crow,

    in my chapeau, none the less, even when I was temporarily homeless,

    I could get some dough, down on 62nd and Ludlow, by droppin' a free style flow

    like a ghetto Michaelangelo...WHOA!

    yo Carlo, me and my wife ain't together no more ya know,

    so, how bout hookin' me up with that fine sista who's related to Pablo,

    tell her I wear Brut, by Faberge, High Karate, and Polo,

    and when I finish this solo, she can smell me..WHOA!

    that's it, I quit, I gotta go..

    it's all ova but the cryin'

     

     

     

    • 26 September 2011
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    Thanks for stopping by and visiting my site. I hope you enjoy the poetic works shared here.Please feel free to leave a comment and subscribe. You can also find me on Facebook under Darwin Greaves. While there, stop by and like my fan page. Listed under D.Greaves the Poet.

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  • About D.Greaves

    Thanks for stopping by and visiting my site. I hope you enjoy the poetic works shared here.Please feel free to leave a comment and subscribe. You can also find me on Facebook under Darwin Greaves. While there, stop by and like my fan page. Listed under D.Greaves the Poet.

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