FC Lyricists: WELCOME!

GSR

Well-Known Member
I wanna make this thread for all the rappers and poets we have here on FC. Whether you wanna throw up some text, share an audio, or set up collabs with fellow FC MC'S, this should be the spot. We can share verses and give feedback to each other here.

To start this off, i'll break the ice by throwing up a very old song of mine. I'm the first guy

https://soundcloud.com/this_is_gsr/get-by-gsr-ft-atg


Thanks to @Deja Vu and @Terpenoid for inspiring me to create this thread. If either of you throw up a freestyle, im more than willing to reply. Any excuse to write just helps me improve :spliff:
 

Radio

stay true to yourselves
heres one I sent to Terpenoid. I like it :) feels nice to recite

I could rap it fast or slow, but either way the wayward tide of rhyming structures means destruction of the notes. Knowledge comes with solace, and the petals and the foliage fall like snow upon your soul, and the parts of you that aren't you are the parts that have to go. Lately, the attitude I've been endorsing is coursing through my veins even harder than the web of dawning foresight that I'm caught in.


I've got some more to share when stuff at home gets sorted out and I can go get my notebooks
 

GSR

Well-Known Member
I was taking a class on the evolution of jazz, and the teacher, Mr. Bernhardt, ended up being the director of the band. I told him i was a rapper, and he asked to see my work so he can determine if im worth working with, so i wrote this up:

Music is the beat of the heart
this is passion that im seekin, that im reachin in art
Speakin this hard whenever I be preachin these bars
Because this is all raw emotion I release when I spar
Keepin my guard, cuz ive been hit with a proposition
To plot a written on compositions that could spot me rippin
next to bernhardt...
I’ll disperse scars over hard trumpets
or I’ll keep it smoothe with the groove and keep the crowd thumpin
hearts bumpin, but not on tune with the radio
drop a crazy flow, just to make that nice jay z dough?
*scoff* Thinkin that is just rude son
I never tried to be a speaker just to hear myself through one
Truth comes through this rappers rhyme complexity
Perfected the recipe. Bestin the rhymes im sendin be
So Impossible.
You can not drop a flow how I rock it yo
Cuz I seize the goals that Ive placed in front of my opticals


Theres more, but i dont wanna spam you guys with too much at once lol
 

Radio

stay true to yourselves
I was taking a class on the evolution of jazz, and the teacher, Mr. Bernhardt, ended up being the director of the band. I told him i was a rapper, and he asked to see my work so he can determine if im worth working with, so i wrote this up:

Music is the beat of the heart
this is passion that im seekin, that im reachin in art
Speakin this hard whenever I be preachin these bars
Because this is all raw emotion I release when I spar
Keepin my guard, cuz ive been hit with a proposition
To plot a written on compositions that could spot me rippin
next to bernhardt...

All good! Got a good momentum going!

It may just be me; but in my head, this part would have sounded better like this.

I’ll disperse scars over hard trumpets
or I’ll keep it smoothe with the groove. and Keep the crowd thumpin

Seems more dramatic, hard hitting, and gives the verse a bit of a break or a pause so that the rest can flow more smoothly.

Also in my head I imagined it playing to a Pretty Lights beat. Funky, intense shit!

very good man, i enjoyed those lyrics
 

samantabha

climbing the mountain of the mind
Company Rep
heres one I sent to Terpenoid. I like it :) feels nice to recite

I could rap it fast or slow, but either way the wayward tide of rhyming structures means destruction of the notes. Knowledge comes with solace, and the petals and the foliage fall like snow upon your soul, and the parts of you that aren't you are the parts that have to go. Lately, the attitude I've been endorsing is coursing through my veins even harder than the web of dawning foresight that I'm caught in.


I've got some more to share when stuff at home gets sorted out and I can go get my notebooks

LIke the smooth alliteration....."Knowledge comes with solace, and the petals and the foliage fall like snow upon your soul, and the parts of you that aren't you are the parts that have to go.
And the message is perfect.
 

Terpenoid

Active Member
One I've already shared with Deja Vu and GSR. Sort of a spoken word story.

The darkness broke as the kraken awoke and arose from the black smoke at the depths of the vast ocean, somewhere near where the plates meet in the middle a cave embraces the creature that's stayed in stasis for eons, dormant aside from the occasional meal and noises that's heard but usually labeled volcano or iceberg cracking or running aground, when truthfully it's the kraken's slumbering sound, only woken by pole shift once a millennia, name spoken in cold breath the summit of predators from the depths of the ocean where no man has ventured, stay tuned for the next programmed adventure

This time on the kraken the creature begins to writhe before its rise from the blackness, it's time for some practice before it sets it's eyes on a battleship, eating some deep sea creatures, tube worms from Jules Verne TV features, but people's its main weakness, sustained on pain, dismay, and chaos, building its strength from the onset for the onslaught, its tentacles sought all movement, caught whatever it chose and chewed it, destroying the rest, resolved to void all life in the depths before it's wiping the decks of aircraft carriers, smashing tomcats, helicopters, and harriers, hells spawn the waters fraught with terror here

Back in action with the kraken, last time we left it it was snacking, now it's on assent on the scent of calamity, sensing war on the surface, searching to serve it's purpose in the anarchy, pandemonium reins supreme here, the sea creature could see and feel fear, and thrived on it, in fact it relied on it for its strength, it fuelled its fire on its journey till the end, the pendulum swings the clock ticks on impending doom, apocalyptic thoughts hard wired in its fibre, the nucleus of hatred, prehistories survivor risen for cataclysm or the collapse of environments, now it feels the destruction of mans creation and knows that it's the moment it's been waiting for with patience

Atop the water there was madness, the kraken broke the surface amongst sea serpents and battleships, a million casualties is just some extra calories the kraken snapped them out of the water with ease, as the battle waged a cavalcade of ships capsized amidst the waves, the perfect place for life to meet a watery grave, it sensed a warship on approach the kraken dove moving towards the boat, arose from below it crushing the hull in its eight enormous tentacles, the fate of the sailors was inevitable, a clever foe to say the least but every man for miles turned his gaze upon the beast, releasing nearly every ammunition, has the kraken met his final day? Await the next edition
 
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Curiousone

Well-Known Member
Nice.

Hmm...might have to post some of my songs...later.

I've hung up the mic for a few years, but the Baby Bottle keeps calling me, lol. Good idea for a thread.
 
Curiousone,

Radio

stay true to yourselves
I vape weed and I stumble, like tumbleweed & I mumble. My tummy grumbles for munches, I fumble for food and I'm crunching! Eating fruits of my labour now, cos I was suspended for 2 years, now my 2 year break has ended stupendously. i was rollin high, high on a high horse of silence, nothin to preach to my chorus but sirens.
Lyricists and rhymers, listen; it's in the timing
 

syrupy

Authorized Buyer
I don't want your story, no I don't want it
It's full of smelly feet and shit, belly full of sweat and shit
The details lie where lie lies in shit, brown flies
I puked up your facts spit out loud, a fax in the crowd
that claps and raps as loud as they're told they're allowed
 

Radio

stay true to yourselves
I don't want your story, no I don't want it
It's full of smelly feet and shit, belly full of sweat and shit
The details lie where lie lies in shit, brown flies
I puked up your facts spit out loud, a fax in the crowd
that claps and raps as loud as they're told they're allowed

Not bad but i'm ontop of this shit now, so relinquish your pride. Delinquents inside while the master abides to the callings and cries.
Audience assembles at once, I kick back; open my mouth and the words; they anunc-
iate while i annunciate the chorus, the front row absorbs it like a sponge that's extra porous!
Im vaped as fuck now while I toke from my tower, empowered- by stupidity and increased brain capacity like elestacity.
Im freestylin like waves on an island, back and forth, building up as power starts expiring, renewed and reinvigorated like a man who's trying!
Pop my herbs in the santa cruz, twist it and tear it without a bruise, no abrasion of flesh; just tearing and pulling of chest muscles with inhale tension and chuckles.
 

Puffers

Micro-Climate Mastermind
Some old stuff I had layin around. Don't judge too harshly Little to choose from between what what's misplaced and gone forever :\ . I was always more of a freestyle rapper then written anyway if I do say so myself :lol:

Every line that they spittin is basic. While I am more high-tech than a spaceship. Face it my rhymes will give you a facelift. Couldn't dodge this if you was living in the matrix. I can make the plates shift, and won't be complacent til you scream "I can't take it!" I chop so many emcees just call me Dahmer. Eattin' em up and I couldn't be calmer. I'll walk through hell depths naked shoeless, like what's next. Sitting on Satan's front steps. Perplexed as to why my lungs still got breath, maybe it's cause I was blessed. With this curse to spit til there's nothing left. My mortality is so close its stranglin. A man living on the edge feet just danglin.
 

Radio

stay true to yourselves
Some old stuff I had layin around. Don't judge too harshly Little to choose from between what what's misplaced and gone forever :\ . I was always more of a freestyle rapper then written anyway if I do say so myself :lol:

Every line that they spittin is basic. While I am more high-tech than a spaceship. Face it my rhymes will give you a facelift. Couldn't dodge this if you was living in the matrix. I can make the plates shift, and won't be complacent til you scream "I can't take it!" I chop so many emcees just call me Dahmer. Eattin' em up and I couldn't be calmer. I'll walk through hell depths naked shoeless, like what's next. Sitting on Satan's front steps. Perplexed as to why my lungs still got breath, maybe it's cause I was blessed. With this curse to spit til there's nothing left. My mortality is so close its stranglin. A man living on the edge feet just danglin.
Fuck yeah!

heres something I wrote about a year ago. Still need to pick a beat and record this.
Don't steal it or i'll fucking kill you



The day that Satan sent down his spears,
to pierce my soul as I cry over my seven sins,
but heavens tears will keep me warm for 7 nights and 7 more deadly sins, the earthly delights.

I was born personified as a sonnet; I depend on it like Shakespeare descended upon it.

All of my lines are predetermined, Be it heaven sent or Satan spawned; I deliver my sermon. Stand to attention the demon’s are calling, this is my utopia; palace of angels has fallen.

I’ll make you crawl like the nervous system somatic, secret service dramatic, this rhyming structure; you bet it’s emphatic. Every thing you thought before this day surpassed. Put on your mask, and masquerade around without a single laceration cast.

Mountain of hooks, so much said rhyming with opens, ending without purpose. Suppose I could say it unspoken, climb to the top before its lulled over and frozen, sleep with choices chosen. Deal with the next as nature’s compass can flow them; compose ideas before the watchers can know them.

If destiny is god’s will, then free choice is just fuckin’ up the gospel, and my god I wont rest until the world feels the cold winter of nothingness when the fog stills. Got them chills before im droppin it, like the first ray of sun in summer except the opposite.

I saw the ocean tide receding, I heard them all abide my reading, I spoke in kissed tongues of demons past, I tied the rope and whispered their names from first to last, and from gallows they fell like rain during a natural disast with not a shade of callow cast or pressure upon the mast.

Go down with the ship, the captain takes his final slip of paper written upon it the final prayer to his final saviours. Nothin can save ya though. And will your body float? And what of the soul, is it just destined to the current and the undertow?

This is the underworld guiding you through life and death, we take dishonest roads like depths that cannot be described or spoken,
 

GSR

Well-Known Member
Only thing bright in my fuckin future is a cherried bowl
ts scary yo, I know that Im holdin a weary soul
I don’t think I’ll feel at peace until im buried whole
might be in Miami, but these streets can feel very cold
wish that I could go back to being a catholic
So I could pray about this instead of just fuckin rappin it
Lifes lost its lavishness, filled with so much savageness
So I’d be torn up if I tried to remain pacifist
But all the stress life brandishes
I cant manage this
Which is why I’m burnin my brain like a fuckin masochist
the only bigger picture is me simply downing pitchers
and tryna stay afloat in this globe by drowning in liquor
 
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