Shoutout to the taggers nigga free sweettooth

Shoutout Beef1

[Verse #1]
The neophyte crawling out the cavern of apathy
Presents a clear misunderstanding of beat poetry
padawans swing their sabers as they are shaking
How you use the force is what may display complacency
Year thirteen ninety-seven
A nightingale proudly debuted a very loud chirp of agency
frivolous Yo Mama jokes served as metaphorical artillery
Followed by us all laughing instantly
The candle whose words lighten up a ruin
If I choose silence, I weave nests of endurance
Comfort zones are hazardous when you’re used to it
Nomadic vagabondage, how my ancestors do it
Before we had desires to become the greatest writers
Or to be known as the illest of all the rhymers
We was just kids in the cyphers doing our best
Who could have known who Cyrus would become next, uh

[Verse #2]
My target audience is cats
Who realized that the term “post-rap” is C.I.A. psyop bullshit
Y'all rap like Mensheviks, bench warming nihilists.
I told my sonic psychiatrist what I thought that rap is
And how I’m scared they extract the revolutionary aspects
From Dumas to Dumile, the radical tradition is spiritually instilled
With the power to forge calculators displaying the number one
Ay, like the Ghostface song, another dadaist lumineer
So don't you tremble in fear
When you can change the world
But only when you understand how this sword works
Now show me how this sword works
I used to rap as a hobby without foreseeing,
Rhyming and flowing’s importance and crucial meaning
So now I ask the padawans listening
Tell me, what is the true definition of emceeing?

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Written by Cyrus Mirrors
Performed by Cyrus Mirrors
Produced by Cyrus Mirrors
Engineered by Cyrus Mirrors
Artwork by Cyrus Mirrors
Recorded at the ominous Globe Al-South headquarters (my room)

Released independently by Globe Al-South Records

Definition of Emceeing

[Hook]
Everyone I know talks big until they eat a humble pie
Bumblebees can sting you, and they still live to apologize
Everyone I know talks big until they eat a humble pie
Bumblebees can sting you, and they still live to apologize

[Verse 1]
The most shifty vagabond
Who’s made choices worse than white women stepping foot in Erewhon
We can sit and drink tea with the tarragon
While contemplating where it all went wrong
Tadpoles in the wrong pond won’t ever find a lilypad
Doing the dishes willy-nilly broke a plate aw that's my bad
But the indignity is stuck in the spider's cobweb
So from the ancient tree, the panicked starlings flushed
Blushing out of embarrassment
The coping mechanism was arrogance
What’s going on, exclaimed the ornithologist
I think penguins and ostriches apologize for not even being able to fly
I think some of them say that they fly all the time in preposterous lies, uh

[Hook]
Everyone I know talks big until they eat a humble pie
Bumblebees can sting you, and they still live to apologize
Everyone I know talks big until they eat a humble pie
Bumblebees can sting you, and they still live to apologize

[Verse 2]
When I see a pigeon on the street, I apologize to it; “I’m sorry”
But Nihilists told me that my words mean nothing
So I kept my shame to myself
I stopped throwing dimes into wells; I started to rhyme spiritual spells
That indicate to my ancestors that I’m doing just fine
Even in the times of peril, where I needed a sign
Projectional pots still point out the shade of kettle
Roses still blame everything on all of their petals
Bees still meddle in the roses business
Now the tumor's malignant
There’s a dissonance amongst everyone involved
Oh, you brave knight, you can fight the dragon all alone

[Outro]
There’s a dissonance amongst everyone involved
Oh, you brave knight, you can fight the dragon all alone
There’s a dissonance amongst everyone involved
Oh, you brave knight, you can fight the dragon all alone

---

Written by Cyrus Mirrors
Performed by Cyrus Mirrors
Produced by Cyrus Mirrors
Engineered by Cyrus Mirrors
Artwork by Cyrus Mirrors
Recorded at the ominous Globe Al-South headquarters (my room)

Released independently by Globe Al-South Records

The Panicked Starlings Flushed from the Ancient Tree

Time is moving at a speed I can't control
Caving in on me
Lengthy journey, blisters decorate my toes
I closed my eyes, then I came to twenty years old
Uncertain destiny

art by @ixosyd + me 

sounds completely done by me

A poet from half the world, who's a young disciple of the ghostface wordsaladists, the awakeners of mummified martyrs, and those who spiritually peel pomelos in the name of anti-imperialism. Misery to the mainstream, glory to the Globe Al-South, and peace to you, beloved!

Contact.CyrusMirrors@gmail.com