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letra de red verb salad - brainstorm sessions

[intro: johnxtreme]
yo
this is johnxtreme and samassvp
we made offbeat sh-t by rapping previous battle tweets on a soulful beat

[samassvp]
uhhh yeaaa
welcome to the brainstorm sessions 2.0
this sam…yea let’s get it

[verse: johnxtreme & samassvp]
ab soul too sp-ced out to sp-ce in
orbit, with no plan-net worthy isn’t very certain
death is certain, wonder why we buried in 5’9 to 6 feet black holes?
holes shaped like pills, like death is a prescription you need a shut eye to feel yourself swallow
staring at the sky, the moon looking like pounded yam
it’s food for the soul, so it’s a different kind of ascension when it goes deep down

so we kneel down to look up, skip lines to book up, we the pressed clowns
still it stays sh-tty like i downed the yam down with a chilled glass of three crowns

for three kings, it’s criminal when you milking people, it’s a royal flush
cause when the con-stipation hits…..you get de-throned outta town

my kings straight pokerfaced, f-ck colours and queens, we talking numbers this side
elijah khan’s verbs get you clubbed in the eye, you gon need a ray bonnie and clyde to ride
ride down memory lane when the world was less f-cked up, but we’ve steady burnt more bridges than build them
so it’s not really magic, that john seen that the masses need good government aids…

ayy i’d set adrift my mind
wrote a short story about sentient floppy disks playing hercules on windows 99 in 1999
i mean 98, pardon my insomnia, i’m grown
too woke to trust s-xy savage sly stallones
thee mag send vertical backshots to your legs and your dome
i told you leave me alone

leave me alone, i’m at home setting traps to catch subliminals like unknown words on a scrabble board, kick the board over
now anxiety caught up with me, that’s a bad fish line, so if you don’t get the right hook it’s left to you to let those words sink-in….

sinking, n.g.o boreholes
dirty water spitting out mouths in streets in flint and gidi tapholes
sunday morning all roads lead to heaven full of manmade potholes
change your brake pad always or she’ll bleed your wallet dry like daddy g.os

daddy g.os who don’t know better, they stay tight fisted until their finger nails make contacts with their veins
no wonder they see things differently then they start acting up when you tell them it’s a sin (scene) when your entire life is staged….

lights out when your life’s taken, the producer says cut – you’re a ghost, show’s over
they lie about the after life to cage mind and soul
your whole life based off a script, these dark verbs are a glitch in the matrix like the wall in the sky on the truman show

the true man shows no face when everything within his view is disfigured
but this figure’s don’t add up ‘cause it’s strange that the arkham asylum got a cross sign
it’s a circus with scientists forcing the laws of nature making fours stand on twos, there’s a division…
grown simba but a tiger wood (would) swim through the lips of the jordan
like mike i’m a dyson without the cord in, ferocious my span enthralling
one hit will leave you laid out like the hangover scene this sunday morning

mourning the silence it’s a grave decision if you choose to drown in these sounds
stuck in the deep end while your struggle gets shallow you’re closer to the ground
final words come up as a bubble parade, toss into the water a bunch of toy soldiers as chucky flips a finger…

middle finger to love
shattered hearts from drowning in bottles, grasping at straws
entangling with wh0res
real life black beauties wanna be mythical unicorns
k!lled the guy of her dreams but amazing jason emerged from the water to get his freddie on

freddie on a cougar, i guess it’s 5 fingers of death when we k!lling these wild p-ssies
but we dream of taking a hike on a french man when his high-full (eiffel) of green like a tree reflection
mirror me this..it’s been a lil’ weighing on me how to dissect this rats at the c-section..

multiple questions on section 80 where kids gats to spray k-dots to your face like a money shot
pause, real queens gs slang ps, b ball court is where 6 to 9 shots get popped
too stubborn to die, young macduff went straight from my mother’s belly to the candy shop

it’s a taste of life, it’s a little too sweet in this room so i stepped out trippin over the juke-box
scared off a couple radio heads who were feeling too plugged into the wall
paper peels off it’s a different picture like a usb, d-mn we tripping upon a aux (hoax)
understanding the universe is harder than trying to convince a flat earther or an antivaxxer of covid 19
alien nasal probe implanted through the nose like an 80s crack fiend
as the snowfalls, we adore the lines and verbs as three wise men arrive in

with camels carrying the burden of men, guess i’m just an average joe what do i know, well (noel)
it’s beyond sane that while we stay masked up it’s had to tell if the ghost face k!ller is someone we know well
deception is what we facing on a large scale of……

dystopian proportions
live your whole life in the dark, so a candle seems like a grand invention at night
they sold souls for cowries and mirrors, the cross made us lay the arms down, they rather use the bible than fight…

the misconceptions of their own beliefs as they alter time, creating red streaks around the city as they run in circles till the muscle crashes
now it’s a flash point to k!ll every second to get to first head band, then it’s survival of de-fit established….

and now it’s a marvel to see
dmd a g a clip of the md of nd-dc acting out a script
comical how no matter how dark night (knight) gets, the boys never face the punisher’s justice
same league, broom and umbrella, they all watchmen of the same corrupt academy, still we bingewatching

all night from the twin towers watching out for paper planes with wings like dog ears
now everything is spot on so i’m sending out morse codes with 1. 0. 1. dalmatians, fur-stration hits a nerve when the message isn’t clear to the recipients – the entire d-mn-nation, i gotta…

i gotta stay humble
left the maad city of lasgidi riddled with hustlers, potholes and broken bottles
where black hippies smoke js and slang rocks to go to school
boy
it’s an oxymoron that these days good kids gotta face setbacks to control their system

system engineered to face this hardship so they can’t-know(canoe) how to float until the ship-wrecks
now it’s just chaos in their rear view, they can’t avoid staring at their own reflection
it’s hotel rwanda all over again when they making reality-checks, into their minds…

until the wisdom’s withdrawn
bl–dy consciousness spat out as the car flip and tumbles
driver’s face turns into to dicaprio’s, your spinning top was a gif not a totem
tune in as the c4 takes you 6 foot deep like fl!cks from christopher nolan

christopher nolan rolling up a spike lee’s joint
sitting on roof tops gettin high-off life wondering the point of the fture when tomorrow is never really promised like a caterpillar cocooned above a volcano
so with our eyes closed our consciousness is wide awake to the…

daily shenanigans
we sleep through the daylight (daylyt) so it’s a constant battle to succeed
hitmen holler at you wit loaded clips as you creep thru the streets
they smack ur-lights out like your bird’s box, blindfolded in the sheets
superman that hoe like soulja boy was christopher reeves on his feet

repeatedly stomping the joker’s face till i wiped that smile off, i’m a bad dentist
the “s” means nothing the moment you take a life, next it’s incorrect sentences like the law screamin out “to the dark seid”
got me thinking, is it called doomsday when a god falls…over?

lucy for the night, shines bright but her heart’s cold like falls over
she leaves leaves in the grass, slithering towards jehovah (jay hova)
he says ‘get behind me becky’ as she takes her robes off
it’s a d-mn hazard to taste big apple-booty felines in eden, eve’s sn-tched the crown off…

the head of adam and stabbed him multiple times with the devil’s forked tongue, it’s like man-ure-bleeding…
emotions soaked down to the roots sprouting out adam’s apple
there’s a bulge in the neck of society, try look over ur shoulder before examining someone else’s torso..

decapitated body white and frozen like a christmas turkey in moscow
the coroner (corona) put in (putin) more work in k!lling people than translating hieroglyphics to morse code
rummaged through the corpse’s torso lacking precision or speed
as dr. hannibal lecter watched from the showglass sipping a glass of chianti…eating from a plate of fava beans

but the shots fired got him startled, so he running across the room dodging camera flash-bangs
but the shutter quick to capture his fear of been within the aim of a scope, bang! bang!
continuous shots to the head now he g-walking
hitting everything in his way but all hopes..

fade in
the scenic route turned out to be the road not taken
bleeding as he ran down the yellow brick road, alone and forsaken
limping on the sidewalk, he heard the sound of a black raven
took a wrong left and was back in dexter’s lab, this time there’s no escaping

no escaping
you just another specimen cooking like ratatouille imitated by owen wilson
first you’d get hurt in this-knee i intend to lower ur stand-ards forced to pray outta will, son
there’s a chemical imbalance the gamma radiating out the lazarus pit got me bruised, shiiiit..

got you bruised and sh-t
flung aside by a mighty joe bigger than shaq
gored by an ox
the sore rot got your p-ssy-ass infected by a vvd, there’s no defending this viral movement
no genie (gini) will cater (keita) to your need for speed
it’ll take mo than one main-ma-ne-mane to rob a man who bleeds red
you know what the pen do, like hendo

red dead redemption
i’m playing matador to all the bullsh-t i’d be dodgin
occasionally, off-course i rode my ass off to the south
took off my north – faced with my misconstrusion
i got more dust in the air than the east-side rally
now my thoughts racing towards mr. west point…

enough of pointless dope flips of verbs that sound saucy to say
we lifting red ribboned trophies, they talking video games
you tried to change the topic like onos on that burna joint ‘smoke’ from back in the day
stars light up the golden skies, liverpool are champions of everything again

champions of everything again
red lifting more cups than what mo’sees in his life time, d-mn his arms’ tired
it’s been a long way up the table from eating bread crumbs now we drinking off huge golden cups
liverpool, we sky walking now
and may the force be with you

[outro: johnxtreme]
amen
and i’m not a rapper though
just spittin, johnxtreme and samassvp
brainstorm sessions 2.0
why i dey speak foné mehn? i hate when rappers do that thing, why we dey speak foné? you no fit just talk for your normal naija accent?
fuc that sh-te man

haha your daddyyyy!

- brainstorm sessions

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