Reply Sun 17 Nov, 2013 10:43 pm
Here's some serious lyric for ya


Half my memories are of things
That can't be heard, felt, or seen
Green screens and weak dreams
Believe me, I've got a shitstorm of lack of faith
Raining crap I never try to take but I'm on my way anyway
Because I've lost my thoughts like I've got Alzheimer's
It's all kinda unrighteous of me to go blindly
Into a war between unseen forces
And now a friend is gone, I'm a pawn against these horses
These knights of the night tie me down
I wanna fly like a kite, but my flight prevented by a plight
To keep me from finding time to calm down
It's so unlike the whole to chase ghosts and ghouls
But when I can't find the spirit I can't find my rules
So I break the one in front of me
I punch, kick, and crush the ton of these
I use rap to done intrigue
Motherfuckers so they can understand what I love to be
Usually my chin is up
But my head won't fit on my neck and looking is tough
Cause my stamina is done to none
Gone to heck
I need a rest for a while like a whole lifetime- it's no fun
One girl gone and another on her way
Love is not a novelty it's just a fool's game
Who am I fooling? I play it night and day
I pray for a way to climb through the gray
It's a drug to be taken in massive doses
Once or twice and addicted, now I'm sticking my nose in
Snorting up a lot of amphetamines
Better be seen with less police and more energy to mask my lesser genes and pressured being
Be a little less hectic please, the next epidemic is my vacation from the scene
I ain't waiting, I'll sicken this town, there's no debating
Five dollars in my pocket with a label naming
Fifteen less than what it takes to find **** at the thrift store and become mainstream's baby!
MackleWHORE aimed at a mattress store
Wears sheets and acts the poor
Who am I to be stating lately when the crazy **** gets a Labrador?
Man's best friend just to bite my hands
And never get fed again, bitch I need adrenaline!
Am I bedridden? in sleep paralysis or feeling dead again?
Police analysis says I mean to battle this
But now this **** is clouding my mind with shrouds of sin
I'm bound to piss off a couple rowdy kids with my astounding lips
Clapping like a standing ovation
A rapping occasion
A knee-slapping duration of impatience
But I won't make an appearance less I have to, explanation?
More you see me less I'm worth-
Not overrated and avoid inflation
Now why the complainin'?
My brain is wasted as an Irishman with two empty gallons of Heineken
High as ****, either taken too much or just OFF his vitamins
It's vital man, weaving in and out like I'm spider-man
I'll bite your hand, inject enough to kill ninety men
With or without an antidote and a light aspirin
I cannot boast, any more than I can revoke
These anti-jokes, seeing from a tiny line of sight
Like some ant-eye jokes, but full grown he can write and fight with might
Still the ant-guy jokes, he can rap better and faster
This dead guy chokes, he's unclimbing the ladder
So then I joke, I can penetrate his mind nine times faster than the sandman knows
Who's in the closet and who comes out, ain't homophobic but man, I know
That half the show, is taken like the land I own
During depressions, so can I go? With a cannon flow?
Shoot straight out and blast a hull like I bag a ho
Mast will go, and masked I go
On to throw, the show, overboard
And that's my low, let's go

That last flow was probably pirated
But I'm so sick that cholera caught me and bited it
Bite my lines? Try it bitch
I'll punch every tooth from your face before you try this ****
Shards blast like I shot glass
Outburst, mind gone like a shot-glass
Half past night man, night man
I'm a dead man, as
Dead as Osama so am I really dead man?
Am I just terrorizing, not realizing who in truth I am?
But I am who I say I am, I say I'm saying I'm a cross
Between Dre, Chris brown, and Drake, man
Make beats then make beat, the take a seat (in that order!)
Say I play jams with or without my raybands
But to say it takes swag to be in fame, then
You can take ten bitch slaps and a lollipop to send you off
I won't break, man! Don't give me a break
I want hate, maybe a whole state against my ways
Or a holocaust in a gay camp
Imprint of a dick on a gray stamp
As it rains gas to keep it weakly and keeping blatant
Patience, pray to god I won't fray, fans
And give me place to make a name in
Like a rap and troll hall of fame, cause I'm shameless
Remember that the name's Gliitch, when I'm rich and famous
Across the nation~~~
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Reply Tue 19 Nov, 2013 08:36 pm
Rap II (number two)

I wish I knew the definition of a basket case/
"Something regarded as useless" (thanks google)
so now I'm half a waste/
A waste basket (hey), I lack a radio so I can't pronounce my name/
I see it on billboards, but can't have it changed/
There's two I's in Gliitch, it's just a rapper's game/
It's my username for Internet sites with a lack of brains/
I'd call myself "cranium" but I'm not sane/
so sense ain't made/
Damn grammar is lacked when raps are made by me/
It is bad tense usage back when I will be trapped in chains/
My raps have changed over the past eight days/
Because rhymezone wasn't working and my crap was lame/
This road I go down doesn't have straight lanes/
Officer, I swear I'm sober, I think that someone was just bad with paint/
Now he slaps my face and has a knack to taze (bzzt!)/
Next he collapsed in flames because I have a knack to raze/
Levitate his body, I alienate and make bodies raise/
Not a cow in the heard can safely graze/
And before another rapper tries to make some fame/
I'll place his frame in shame and make him blaze/
Not like the green but the heat and the lapping flames/
Outburst of lines like a nice frag grenade/
Burst in pain/
Fight the light and fly like I'm a hurricane/
Call me turd-for-brains/
To little to be made into a swear-word, what a worthless shame/

Yet when I drop a verse/
The worst of my words curve/
And curveball, hurl off the curb/
Break a window and hurt a bird/
Tore right through a shirt and murdered Kurt/
No lesson learned, I bet it worked/
It imbedded in his work like a casket buried in dirt/
All you apparitions lack permission/
To haunt a rapper's mission/
I'll collapse in visions/
Whilst you spirits grasp my writtens/
And laugh as you snap some bitches/
I don't blame it luck, I blame on impossibilities/
Improbability probably drilling me/
Coffee is killing me/
Empty six pack of Monster Energy/
I ain't living I'm operating on little drinks/
Dark circles under my eyes I'm like a raccoon/
Nocturnal, a scavenger, and I lack truth/
I'd grab you, thrashed and bruised/
And you gasp as I clasp two/
Napkins covered in ether, now suck it up you fag, you/
Are you a man or a vacuum?/
Now I'll blast through/
With my last ruse/
No more rhymes come to mind, I'm damn used/
Like your girl in the bathroom/
Stupid insult aimed at no one but who I rap to/
You rap too?/
Well too bad, cause I'll entrap you/
In purgatory and stab you/
That's my last move/
Checkmate, man I'm back/
Rap II two.../
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Reply Mon 25 Nov, 2013 10:45 pm

Psychologically calling you out/
Bright lighting and images bout/
Colors and patterns all shout/
Surround so loud with rhythmic sound/
Pinned to the ground, hearing voices within/
The crawling outside has crept into your skin/
Visibly killing ya, spinning and drilling ya/
Game over for real, filling with diligence/
But internally spilling it, boiling skillet ****/
Ill as ****, hearing sounds full of wickedness/
Pills are in, but unable to stay stable/
The fables are fables but taking the tables/
And tipping them, flipping them/
Hear static like cables, and hallucinations/
Is it imagination? Ungodly creations made by my brain?/
Is it deranged equations, put in place by that strangely game?/
Is it crazy plans to unchain the flames?/
Is it some plainly sane idea of me being clear as day?/
Is it just littleness, being completely insidious/
Pretty please, I'm asking to be rid of this/
Isn't it that wicked ****, I ain't kidding, it's Polybius/
By the time you'll be getting this/
I'll be fried by my temperament/
Suicide from not getting it-
Remove that damn Polybius---
I ain't kidding bitch!

With the gun to his head/
He lost sanity, was dead/
And in vanity, he bled/
And finally they said/
"Remove the machine from the arcade"/
Good, six human beings were unable to partake/
In seeing its removal from the park state/
They all stayed in coffins of which they got laid/
In by the widowmaker and his possé/
Ah great, these mind tricks led to some hot rage/
That lost game, made for some raw fates/
When it got played, it made the player be not sane/
And couldn't handle the visual and non-visual blockades/
That made it psychological and even god prays/
That it will not resurface, cause man that would be a hot plate/
To eat off of, don't take chances on that, that is not great/
It's the opposite, it's some simple ****/
I ain't a simpleton but not stupid, not riddled with/
The need to know if it's psycho interest/
But I'm staying the **** away from Polybius!::::


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