Turning up the microphone, rapping live in Leytonstone Dec 14 '09 (Updated Dec 25 '09)    Write an essay on this topic. Tweet Popular Products in Microphones Shure SM58-LC Professional Microphone From $98 Shure SM58S Professional Microphone From $99 The Bottom Line Now that's what I call rap poetry! I'm chilling at my crib in Leytonstone, rapping on the microphone, I'm not a lonely kid in my bedroom singing softly like I am Home Alone, I'm collaborating with Razor Ramone, an emcee raspy in tone, I'm naturally baritone in delivery, sounding identical to Ramone, like I am his genetic clone, I'm spreading my thick vocal testosterone, taking it to the streets, over sick musical beats crafted by DJ Capone, Razor Ramone is spitting mad fire, heating up the microphone, his saliva is being flammable, containing litres of burning acetone, capable of roasting duck on a bone, combustible enough to smoke a zone. DJ Capone said, "Well done boys, your rapping skills are fully grown. You're rhyming with multi-syllable flows, sounding incredible on the microphone. Your lyrical capabilities are doper, your vocal deliveries are no longer monotone. You and Ramone sound hotter than underground lava in a volcanic zone. You both ripped my classic musical production with your fantastic verbal execution. Now this is our opportunity to write history and be the street poetry sensation. So get combined and ready, we're definitely here to mastermind Hip hop evolution. Rehearsal is ending, keeping spiritual is essential and rapping live is our phenomenal mission. Practice is over lads, we're ready to enter zone 3 of Leytonstone with fashion!" Complexity levels my terminology, so feel the intricacy of my flow, I’m a rapper spitting over the microphone, loving my fans below, repping for the ghetto like Cormega, I’m touring an underground show, with the sound of East Coast playing around in Walthamstow, and the beautiful sound of crows flying somewhere over the rainbow, I am a Leytonstone boxer, throwing punch lines like Frank Bruno, preparing tasty knuckle sandwiches with bumpy fists, adding plenty of mayo to go, I lyrically feed ravenous rap listeners with delicious delicacies, flavoured with magical seeds, verbal weeds and essential oils of trees, as natural sources of essential vitamins and botanical vitalities, possessing chemical and structural properties and functional qualities, beneficial for us to communicate poetically and meditate spiritually. I can be a hustler in Netto, bought by shoppers in Hounslow, quenching the thirst of these customers, wetting their mouths like hydro, an energetic, fizzy drink bringing vitality in my magic rhymes that flow, going straight down the oesophagus, entering socially-conscious drinkers’ torso, when I travel in humans’ bloodstream, my vocabulary gleams brightly like a halo, then my multi-syllables swim towards peoples’ brains, like fishes on the go, they tango around, dancing faster and moving harder to the sound of tempo, until they blow up drinkers’ minds like the explosive effects of nitro, follow that noise in your mind, that defines the “BIG BANG!” you know, my sound quality is like a huge willow, waking up sleeping beauty in the hollow, the flow of my wordplay still travels today in Leytonstone until maybe tomorrow. Yo, I’m taking a break from emceeing alone, in the town of Leytonstone, I’m answering ‘’’Erin Simone‘’’, she’s calling me on my mobile phone, time to pass tha microphone over to my fellow soldier, Razor Ramone, his flow is gonna grow muscular like the steroidal effects of nandrolone, with concomitant release of testosterone, attracting pleasant females, spreading progesterone, Razor Ramone said, “Okay, now let me spit a wordplay to my Hip Hop fans of UK, I got miles of lyrical styles about myself to display as I ramble away, driving my vehicle on the Milky Way, I’m shooting deadly syllables with my A.K....   ....I ain’t just a rapper, I’m a preacher with thoughts of Nelson Mandela, I brought equality to the community of black people in South Africa, I was a long known heroic, saving rustic people from famine in Niger and Liberia, check the headlines in Anambra, I performed black magic in Amawbia, when I engage in politics, I represent Nigeria‘s version of Obama, wanna learn more about me in Nigeria, better read ‘The Abuja Inquirer’. I’m dodging traps with my raps, feeling courageous after leaping over tremendous gaps, fighting outrageous foes and hoes on cracks that I encounter in my tracks, I defeat and conquer a whole fleet of bad rappers, and show love to my good soldiers, dangerous like the grim reaper, yet righteous like a church goer, I carry thirteen numbers, counting myself luckier than a regular lottery winner, superstitious, I predict nature of the future like an adventurous soothsayer, I am a 16-bar spitter, smarter than your average Ruff Ryder, I’m a Nintendo controller, gaming with these lyrics like a superior, video game player! I’m an artist who ponders, I meditate deeper like that sick lyricist, Jeru Tha Damaja, who collaborates with his side-kick artist, Afu Ra, delivering fantastic karate kicks over classic works of mart by DJ Premier, Primo is my hero producer and so is DJ Capone, the new beat-maker.” PEACE. DJ­_primo

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