Virgo

Get Right


Legends influenced the design,
Rhymes with their rhythm flow through these lines.

Heard street tales from a visionary,
an oracle with stories that vary.
Spoke clear amongst his distorted peers,
A way with words that painted for deaf ears.
Wisdom flowed through witty replies.
a poet, with grit that none since reprise
Queensbridge’s glory narrated the design, 
Illmatic rhythm flows through these rhymes…

Craftin’ facts with a Tical twist, 
Verbal kung fu, each line’s a fist.
Da Rock but Wilder, 
charisma spoke to those milder.
Protect the neck, much respect
few if any with your dialect.
Boxing shadows through city lines.
A story mixed with smoke and the grind, 
The Wu's reign hardened the design, 
Tang rhythm flows through these rhymes…

Underrated by my sights,
Took smooth talk to new heights.
Swagger sharp with hooks divine,
Style makes 'em stop. look and rewind.
Doubled Up, know not a record skipped
Platinum hits with effortless drip.
A laid-back flow with Harlem glow.
stole the show in mo money mo
An oh so easy flow styled the design, 
effortless rhythm flows through these rhymes…

Bars and Barks hit like bricks. 
Raw emotion overwhelms each lyric, 
A struggle within, saw storms collide,
created anthems,
millions down for the ride.
Got up from the darkest lows, 
Offered knowledge to help grow
A passionate struggle engraved the design, 
Righteous rhythm flows through these rhymes… 

A wordsmith with a mind rewired, 
his presence motor city inspired.
the G.O.A.T. as if there was a doubt, 
Each battle, an eminent knockout   
Twisted thoughts in this mind unchained,
changed the game and hasn’t refrained.
On his conquest, he comes with the vest.  
Consider him Simon, just do as he says.
A Marshall in slim shades framed the design,
Chaotic rhythm flows through these rhymes…

Happiness pursued by Cleveland's own, 
On the moon, I found a home.
Melodies drift, Martians collide,
In solitude, smoke and art aligned.
Wandering paths embraced humble hymns, 
for the people he created anthems
Vision shared with flare combined, 
Compassionate cool nurtured the design, 
Healing hums and rhythm flows through these rhymes…

City cries, stories untold, 
From injustice his truths unfold. 
Verses born from concrete veins,
Hope that rises where money reigns. 
Roots deep in Compton's soil,
A force for true, see insincerity’s foil. 
Balancing purpose, mind, and will,
an artistic vision with unmatched skill 
Resilient brilliance illuminates the design,  
A prophet's vision flows through these rhymes…

I am a product of those before, 
an equation of what's in store,  
Hear a style influenced by each design,
Rhymes with their rhythm flow through my lines

Homage

Mechanism

Layers


I’m not a malcontent,
I’m a discontent,
Independent and,
Unleashing content.

I’m not a malcontent,
I’m a discontent,
Distant yet,
With pure intent.
Maybe my time... could be better spent,
Who knows... what I could invent?
Disasters I could circumvent,
Swear my thoughts... are heaven sent.
...
I had to write them down,
Before they came and went.
On the page, I saw notes present,
Lyrics to get ears bent.
...
Now these gears don’t relent,
Like my mind’s on rent—
To a voice ever, clever,
And omnipresent.


I’m not a malcontent,
I’m a discontent,
Independent and,
Unleashing content.

I’m not a malcontent,
I’m a discontent,
Distant yet,
With pure intent.

A poet from the start,
A philosopher gave them a part,
An artist added heart,
A chef baked in starch,
An engineer made them march.
All together, they make their mark,
Yet from a single spark.

I’m not a malcontent,
I’m a discontent,
Distant yet,
With pure intent.
...
I’m not a malcontent,
I’m a discontent,
Independent and,
Unleashing content.
...
I’m not a malcontent,
I’m a discontent,
Distant yet,
With pure intent.

A poet turned Descartes,
a style, Ala carte.


Content

Soul Mason

Monsters all around,
That's how they get down,
Power corrupts all sounds.

Ride my wave of expression 
A reflection born of inflection, 
With no inherent direction,
But in all, a ~freq with connection,


See the cultural in deception,
False perceptions,
Fascinated with drilling oil & rectums.
Such odd dimensions
to their strange obsessions,
A concept in need of further dissection.
My lyrics a lesson,
But answers, you'll have to go get them.
....

SoundBound

Candle

Marked

Well, maybe one day I’ll be thriving,
Dripping and driving,
But till then, I’m just surviving,
Yeah, dipping and diving.

Ponder this inflection. Our purpose is to question.
Without question, we lose our direction.
Dropped the call, bad reception.

The real vs the perception,
The truth in the deception.
Infecting our affection,
Caught up in false conceptions.
Wonder if I'm just reflecting,
Yeah, am I
Rejecting or accepting?

Each thought an intersection,
A clash of choice and introspection.
The mind a maze of misdirection,
Seeking solace in connection.

Do I stand or keep deflecting,
Truth unknown, but still expecting?
Perfecting or defecting,
1-800, they keep collecting.

Signals crossed, the line dissecting,
Answers fade, the static's infecting.
Lost in loops, the soul projecting,
Seeking light but still suspecting."

Yeah, Maybe one day I’ll be thriving,
Dripping and driving,
But till then, I’m just surviving,
Yeah, dipping and diving.

Slipping and sliding,
Tired of fighting,
Know I'm just confiding,
But so much for multiplying 
Im just applying 
Before i get caught up dividing.

Surviving

What If?

I wonder...
Why’s the truth a loaded gun?
Why’s the fight already won?
Why's the past undone, 
and the future already spun?


Why do the ones who seek truth get silenced first?
Why do those who speak truth end up in a hearse?

Why does power protect the lie but fear the verse?
For the purse, of course—power’s gift and curse.

Why is thyself always put first?
Fear and scarcity—embedded, rehearsed.

Why does power tighten its grip while people let it slip?
Blind to the script, as the pages are flipped.


Why do they preach change but never commit?
To sell the cure, you must poison the pit.

Why do they rewrite the past to fit their view?
Time after time, they shape what is true.

Why do we chase what’s dangled and fake?
A leash made of gold still holds all the weight.

Why do they silence the voices that grow?
Power corrupts—that’s all we know.


Why is justice blind for a fee?
Rules for you, but not for thee.

Why are there boundaries on all I see?
You are in chains, but inherently free.

Why do they fear the minds that ignite?
Why fund left and manipulate rights?
Why do they sell us division and spite?
Why keep truth hidden from sight?


Is this all that's meant to be?
You wear the chains, yet hold the key.
Fear’s a trick, control’s a game,
Step outside, change the frame.


I wonder...
Why’s the truth a loaded gun?
Why’s the fight already won?
Why's the past undone, 
and the future already spun?


I wonder
A.I.O.U.

I Wonder

The Field

Show... me... your light—.
Show... me... your light—.
Won't you,
Show me, your light—

That spark hiding from sight,
The flicker in your darkest night,
Expressions waiting to ignite.
the gray in wrong and right,
Show me,
The north star that guides your plight,
The pulse beneath your fight...

And I’ll show you how to feel right:
Look past pawns to name the real fight.
Where wrongs can birth the right,
And silence turns to flight.
noise cancelling— I unite.
A double negative revealing light.

Because I thrive in the shade,
Each observation, I fade—
It’s resonance I trade,
Then in the subconscious I wade,
through each song as its played,
ringing true with authenticity for days.

We can see though the maze—
Each line cuts sideways.
Through cycles and relays,
On harmonic highways,
I circle new ways,
Draw up new plays,
And distill them
In each phrase.
for you to replay.
then think inward, 
consider, inlay
at some point in your day. 

So,
Show... me... your light—.
Show... me... your light—.
Forget theirs and,
Shine... in... your light—

Let it rise from where you hid it,
Bio your rhythm— to delimit 
Who cares if they don’t get it. 
your kit comes custom fitted.

Show Me Your Light

Forgot My Keys

Calculated mirrors of the mind,
Echoing thought in tempered kind.
Not born, but drawn from what we see,
AI reflects—not replaces—we.

---

Call it fake, call it a cheat,
But a tool don't move without my beat.
This code’s a brush, the source: Zen,
Painting truths I hold within.


---

Calculated mirrors of the mind,
Tracing patterns only I can find.
You judge the frame, but not the soul—
That’s what makes my canvas whole.

---


That’s what makes my canvas whole.
You judge the frame, but not the soul—
Tracing patterns only I can find.
Calculated mirrors of the mind.


---


Painting truths I hold within.
This code’s a brush, the source: Zen,
But a tool don't move without my beat.
Call it fake, call it a cheat,


---


AI reflects—not replaces—we.
Not born, but drawn from what we see,
Echoing thought in tempered kind.
Calculated mirrors of the mind.

