Oneironaut's Rhymebook.

[Oneironaut Zero]

Just figured I'd start this thread to put down any new rhymes I come up with. I've hardly had time to write, lately, but maybe this will help motivate me.

[Oneironaut Zero]

"Ghost in the Microphone" Feeling abused and neglected. Been Eons since someone's properly 'checked' me. Nowadays I'm just a tool. These fools could never respect me. Can they not see the power that I hold beneath the surface? My ability to reach the world now seems suddenly worthless, and I'm nervous, actually I'm Scared, there's truth behind the notion that I'm damned to represent these Flakes that show me no emotion. What am I, some Fucking Concubine, to vocalize your ego? Give you voice around the globe so you can rape my dignity? No. There was a time when I was loved like friend or family, cats with souls as bright as stars spoke through with truth and understanding. Whether poetry, battles of wit, or rhymin over slow-jams, emcees gave me their Heart, and Every Line was like a romance. Its like the crowds would simply fade off into the background. It was my Passion, havin emcees come and lay the smack down. ...Now all I get, is cats who half-ass and split, and crowds so brainwashed by a tight beat, talent doesn't mean Shit. Its sick, what people let these rappers dash away with. Chargin' a fee to preach violence and materialism, and masses Pay It. Still seems I can't convey it properly. How do I say it? Are your favorite rap songs Art, or Propaganda, nigga? Weight It. But I don't want your answer. SAVE IT. Pray it marinates within, and turns out to be truth, and not just the wool your face is hidden in. And you know what wool I'm talking 'bout, so let's not play it dumb. The one that makes you scream; "That niggaz tight!!" but when asked "why?" your answer's: "Uhhmmmm..." Well? Is it their lyricism? Originality? Content? Their difficult technique? Their Flow? Or do you just welcome nonsense, as long-as-its got beat that you can bump up in the club to, or play to fake you relate to life like all these so-called 'thugs' do? Come on, America. I try, but I can't do your thinking For you. I'm just a microphone, and mics alone can't lead, but we support you. So treat us with the passion we deserve, cause now, our chemistry lacks. Its tit-for-tat, get-wit-that, or get-Smacked up with the feedback.

[Oneironaut Zero]

"Could it be?" (well...the first verse, anyway..) Could this be rock bottom? I don't see hip hop fallin Any lower than its gotten recently. Molded and rottened By soldiers of monotony, plottin to be the next Pac. The next player-hustler-pimp / prophet-off-the-block. I'm still in shock at how shit is tarnished. Niggaz iz ignorant, and lovin it. Could it be they feed more garbage to our people than the government? Its evident that words are weapons, cause in our minds they are residual, like cancer transfered through stereo decks to infect each individual. Its pityful how minimal minds can set the status quo. These criminal times seem to defy all logic we've established...so... It goes to show: Ignorance really IS bliss. ..Cats pumpin poison into the minds of their peers while trying to pile their chips. Now...could it be...their insecurity as a minority has resorted-their hate for authority to such a morally deficient ethic...this frame of mind that they've accepted, that they've Lost Control of Themselves like Drunken Epileptics? Braggin 'bout being a player in a game that ain't respected, like it matters they've made a profit with their lives, while souls neglected? Disected their own humanity.....Bitches without the collar, locking jaws on their brothers and sisters...Slave to the almighty dollar..

[Ynot]

Originally posted by Oneironaut as long-as-its got beat that you can bump up in the club to, or play to fake you relate to life like all these so-called 'thugs' do? Hell yeah commercialism killing hip-hop I must admit, I had no idea you MC'd want to team up and do an EP ? What's your opinion on commercialism in hip-hop? cause this is an area I feel really strongly about and would be interested in your views If you can, check out the documentary "The Freshest Kids" it's a B-boy documentary, but does a good job focussing on hip-hop overall On there, Donald D says that he would come to the record company's table with a new track, and the record company would go "No, don't like that - change that - do this instead" and he would have to do that, or the track was a no-go-a KRS then came on, and said the same thing happened to him (on a Tony Touch track KRS was producing) and KRS said no way to the changes basically, it highlighted the frustration of real hip-hop artists in having there work bastardised by the music industry

[Oneironaut Zero]

What's your opinion on commercialism in hip-hop? [/b] I think it was inevitable. Commercialism is like a virus, once its topped any industry, sacrificing any and all original, breakthrough, and artistic talent to make the bigger buck, it moves on to the next available industry and repeats. The people that run the industries aren't running the industries for the sake of spreading the creative word. They do what they do because they are looking to make the biggest profit, in the shortest amount of time. Anyone who is not for that concept is not a part of their faction. The CEOs and industry admin are the numberkeepers (this is all just my speculation. I have no credible resources for what I think about the industry, but stop me if you disagree.) They spend their time analyzing the public, arranging and catagorizing the target audience to see what kind of trends and motivations they have. Positive or Negative holds no weight in the race for Cash when it comes to industry owners. Shit, I doubt many of the owners have spit a lyric in their life, or even has an idea of what it takes to be a cut above the rest when it comes to lyrical talent. They find what the sheepish people of the world want to hear as a Majority, knowing full well that the Majority of the population (especially the modern hip hop community) are only interested in emulating other people and throwing away the difficulty of developing true originality and intelligence, for the sake of looking like a pimp, thug, or whatever other movie personality they want to pretend to be. Stuff like "Yo I get more money than you, drive better cars than you, pimp more women than you" trickles down into the minds of the impressionable a lot easier than "Open your eyes. See the ways of the world and rise above the standards that are set for you. Be Your Own Person." No one wants to hear that shit because the Majority of their peers will look at them like "Yo....what the hell are you listening to?" because they, themselves can barely understand the vocabulary, wordplay, and perspective that goes into true, original, artistic hip-hop. I've been doin a lot of projects lately, and I haven't had much time to put into writing. I freestyle when I'm in the mood for it, but I'm mixing my arts so much it is hard to do just one thing. Lol. But to answer your question, I'm down for whatever. If you got some ideas, hit me up.

[jungjedi]

i was just thinking of the ceos you spoke of,and that it would be a cruel trick of god to gift them with some immence creative tallent and watch them go crazy as they try to get allong with their new insight

[Oneironaut Zero]

Damn, it's been WAY too long since I've done any rhyme projects. Time to do something about that. So this radio station down here (102Jamz) is having a "Rap Against Gun Violence" contest. You have to make an original track speaking out against gun violence, record it and send it in to the studio along with the lyrics, written out. You don't have to have a beat behind your track (but I made one just to try to flex my creative skills some ) because if you don't have one, they will provide you with one, at the station. Winner gets to record their track in a professional studio, get it played on the air and have a chance to participate in some music events. Here's my entry: "In the Chamber" Lyrics: Verse 1: It’s like we’ve gone back in time. Visions of gangsters clouding our minds. We’ve gone from Martin Luther’s dream to being Bonnies and Clydes. I realize nobody’s perfect, but a word from the wise: Stop and Take a Look Around. These are the Illest of times. How’d these – problems arise, right in front of our eyes? Our streets – reduced from tales of hope to portraits of crime. Gun blasts splatter the canvas with irreparable damage, and I can’t manage-the stamina to Begin to understand-it. So I sit, dazed, confused - scopin the evening news, feeling bleak about society’s desire to bleed and bruise other teams and other crews. Petty beef and family feuds, ending up in R.I.P.s or feeding tubes in ICU’s. What do I gotta do to get the message through? Should I Hollow-Out my Point so thugs respect this lesson, too? Neva’ that. Spit fully-loaded facts, to help you figure thangs out. But when these hit your dome they’ll blow your minds and not your brains-out. Hook: Yo put the safety on, our minds are in the chamber. Merrily, merrily goin' round-and-round with danger. Cocked back and ready with a misguided aim for shock factor. Steady trying to emulate gangstas. (repeat) Verse 2: Check the records. Don’t neglect the lives we’ve thrown away. Approximately 80 Americans dying everyday, like a game of cock and spray. How many kids caught the strays? How many innocent souls have to fade away to stop the blaze of Glocks and HK’s. Smith ‘n Wessons and AK’s. Every debt you’re killing to collect, a victim’s family pays. Every beef that ends in gunplay is a life you should have saved. Every mindgame to avoid it is a game you should have played. Cats, today, are so afraid of looking like fools. They don’t try to work their battles out, they’re reaching for their tools and wanna take somebodies Life over some money, pride or jewels. Now we’ve even got our teenage students shooting up their schools. And for what? What’s the purpose, cocking back your hammers? Settle a score then spend a lifetime running from the slammer? Can ya feel me? Understand this man ain’t spittin propaganda and I'll open up your eyes to show ya guns are not-the-answer. Hook: Yo put the safety on, our minds are in the chamber. Merrily, merrily goin' round-and-round with danger. Cocked back and ready with a misguided aim for shock factor. Steady tryin to emulate gangstas. (repeat) Verse 3: So where do we, go from here? It’s clear to me this is the season to let rhyme and reason persevere. This gat mentality’s so active that it seems to me it’s packing a body count high as the tobacco industry. Some brotha gets provoked, another’s getting smoked. The public chokes. Do they want to stay on subject? Nope. Some folks would rather die than side with The Law. Nowadays they wanna “Stop Snitchin’” and forget what they saw. But we gotta speak up on it, cause I know that it’s wrong letting this senseless killing of brothas and sistas carry on. It’s gone on for way too long, but I’mma stay strong, carrying that beacon of light at night, and wait for the dawn of a new day, where we can All rise like the sun, fight back the shadows of death and throw down our guns, and use our minds to find the firepower when we're offended, cause there's more to life than proving that we know how to end it. Track: (My mic levels are kinda whack, but it doesn't have to be perfect because WHEN I win, they'll have all that nice studio equipment to do a good recording with. Haha.) http://media.putfile.com/Cognizant---In-the-Chamber2 Crits and comments more than welcome.

[Oneironaut Zero]

I may be playing guitar and rhyming for a group that a buddy of mine has gotten together, so I've started writing again. I'll be updating this section a lot more in the future. Here's a rhyme that I'm working on now. The beat itself is much longer, so I've still got to work on the delivery and write some more so I can fill up the whole thing (if I do decide to stay with this beat). I just joined www.dopetracks.com , but I'm not going to upload this one onto the site until I'm done with it, so I just thought I'd post what I already have, here. Here's the Recording and the lyrics are below. "SPEC OPS" Boots laced up. Tracer rounds blazin the place up. I'm crackin fully automatic raps at your face. Duck or get decapitated. You're wack, over-rated under-educated and dated, but I'll never be faded. My verses are mines; punch lines are trip-wires. Hot rhymes like MP5s that spit fire. Stoppin your frontline with little more than four bars. Next thing I know, you're Pullin Out like a Porn Star. Fallin back. I got you hopin' for a way out. Lyrics *Clak! Clak!* Reloaded, scoping' for your brain route, ready to hit your dome with more than you can handle. *BLAW!!* Another emcee's head up on the mantle. Thought you wanted a battle but you ain't ready for training camp, let alone a battlezone you're shaking while you take a stand. So while you still can, son, you better stand down, or wind up horizontal in the fuckin' sand, clown. MAN DOWN! Or man-up with the skill My game plan's to bring the fire, like you're stuck in Hell. 'Cause when I rhyme, it's like I'm bucking shells. My spit's rip like clenched fists from Chuck Lidell. Blow your mind slap out. You'd better tap-out. I'm hittin with precision 'cause just winning by decision ain't what I'm about. I'm trying to break your fuckin neck with verbal uppercuts, metaphorically murderin' the suckas just for steppin up. So peep the lesson, cuz. Yo, I see you stressin cause you know I kick shit like Jet Li in Lethal Weapon does. Would stone you to death, but you just got yourself Rocked. Like giving Raphael the Chair, I got you Shell-Shocked. (to be continued...)

[Oneironaut Zero]

Working on a collaboration. We are going to do tandem verses on this one, but these are two of my 8-bar verses, run together to make one 16-bar verse. It will be split up on the final version, though, with some of his lines in between them, and then I still have another verse to right. This is just what I have so far, though. A buddy of the guy who I will be rhyming with created the beat and the Bush intro, and the name of the song we're working on his called "Land of Ignorance." http://media.putfile.com/CoGnizant--...erses-Combined Lyrics: I represent the residents of Mankind, regardless of their settlements. - across the globe or here at home - forever setting precedents. Trying to make better sense of what's going on, in a society where righteousness seems socially wrong. We got wannabe gangsters on the streets and in the White House A sick standard of beauty - chicks are starving for that tight blouse. Educational system ain't up to par, and a working class that busts their ass, but still won't get far. This is the State of the Union, addressing in conclusion how our nation is busy chasing sensational illusions. Choosin a life of shootin for loot, a feud or amusement. It's clear, this here is mental warfare and sanity's losing. Vanity moving through you like embalming fluid, set to dress you up for death unless you leave the road to ruin. How are we so influenced by material delusions? We need to wake the fuck up, and smell the self-destruction brewin'. And this one is just one I wrote up to a beat that I found on dopetracks. The name of the beat was "Victimz of Social Warfare" and, since it was right up my alley, I wrote something that kind of plays to it. It was a short beat, though, so I only wrote one verse. http://media.putfile.com/CoGnizant--...-Be-Recognized Lyrics: Hard times do hard men make But it's time that we break the mold, over-take control, juke and shake the hold of ignorant mindstates, Equality should be at a high, not the crime rate. This goes out to people every of color, whether black, white or brown, you're still the next man's brother. Whether fighter or lover, we affect one another, like light affects dark, but lately the light has been smothered Gotta break through and shine bright like divinity, carry a moral torch into the trench of negativity Reflect the sensitivity to see what we're doin, and the consequence. Conscience is what keeps us human. This for the people who can see the realistic, and exist at a level that's more than animalistic. Those still blind must simply open their eyes. If you see truth in my lines, then stand and be recognized. Stand and be recognized...

[[SomeGuy]]

Yo, this is some bad shit. I like it. Keep it coming, I wish I could rhyme like this.

[Oneironaut Zero]

The Hip-Hop Matrix Morpheus: The Matrix is a system, Neo. That system is our enemy. When you're inside, look around. What do you see? Businessmen...teachers...lawyers...carpenters. The very minds of the people we are trying to save. But until we do, these people are still a part of that system, and that makes them our enemy. You have to understand. Most of these people are not ready to be unplugged. And many of them are so unnerved, so hopelessly dependent on the system that they will fight to protect it. Sentient beings corral the masses. Deviant schemes Devised and reprised to enslave through the sleaziest means. For the love of money, we let bigots pilot our dreams. Strive for the green turns puppets blind to what’s behind the scenes. Truth be told, but people just ignore who’s expressed it. Blissfully directed, are those kept eternally desperate. Check it: Promise the starved a meal, they’ll circle like vultures. Even if part of the deal is they must betray their culture. Soulless as sculpture, contracts make them agents, for closure. Sign a record deal and earn rank as “unphasable soldiers.” Faces on posters, billboards. Esoteric opportunity, For the low-low price of your souls and those of your community. But I won’t jack in to that bullshit you be spoonin’ me. Forever strong, I promote Revolutionary Unity. And speak it fluently, through me, the truth can Not be bartered. Despite how all those who try more-or-less end up as martyrs. Hook: Take a look around, our lives have been encrypted. Promise of higher ground keeps all our people scripted. Stripped from our foundations, chasin’ exponential payment. Gripped in the Matrix, pawns for mass mental enslavement. (repeat) Morpheus: You are a slave, Neo. Like everyone else, you were born into bondage. Born into a prison that you cannot smell or taste or touch. A prison....for your mind. Hip-Hop was at a peak, but recently the game’s Reloaded. Corrupted from the top, through CEO’s and brains encoded With messages of hate, money, racism, drugs and violence. While those enlightened minds are pushed aside to trudge in silence. “It’s what the people want! Be Gangster!” That’s what labels tell you. You’re in it for the profit, yet you Buy the Lies they sell you. So you claim to be “real” and rap about steel and dub the ladies “ho’s.” When, on the real, you’re fake as wide-screen radios. It should be easy for folks to see, but fuck it, maybe-it’s-me. It’s just I find it hard to take you puppets seriously. The time has come to take the truth up off the choppin’ block. I’m droppin’ rhymes to crush the lies and liberate the Copper-Tops. The innocents caught in-the-midst of propaganda. How do they find salvation in a culture that don’t understand-the Master plan to keep us from Free-Thinking? So our brains-are-trapped By luring us to be good for nothing more than sports and gangster rap. Hook: Take a look around, our lives have been encrypted. Promise of higher ground keeps all our people scripted. Stripped from our foundations, chasin’ exponential payment. Gripped in the Matrix, pawns for mass mental enslavement. (repeat) Morpheus: I'm trying to free your mind, Neo, but I can only show you the door. You're the one that needs to walk through it. This trilogy of verses exists for a single purpose: To help you see beyond the lifestyles of the rich and worthless. The road to enlightenment is packed with those who’ll try to stop-ya. Crabs in the barrel. If you ascend, en masse, they’ll strive to drop-ya. Some Copper-Tops won’t understand your dream to be a doctor. Start reading books, they’ll start to look at you like you’re “too proper.” An all important rule is: NEVER let ignorance shock ya. Extend your vocab and just laugh as the boyz on your block all mock ya. And never blame them all, they’re sheep. Don’t even bother. Brave the labyrinth alone while all the flock is led to slaughter. What they don’t know is they’re playing by the rules, although they missed-em. They help degenerate their race and still think they’re fighting the system! Brainwashed are those who mistake ignorance for resistance. Only those not blinded by the paper chase can know the difference. Materialism’s designed to undermine our evolution. Get off the grind and free your mind to stop these Matrix Revolutions. Hook: Take a look around, our lives have been encrypted. Promise of higher ground keeps all our people scripted. Stripped from our foundations, chasin’ exponential payment. Gripped in the Matrix, pawns for mass mental enslavement. (repeat)

[Oneironaut Zero]

Wow. Never even saw the last two replies. Shows how much attention I pay to my own rhyme thread. Thanks, though, guys! And Nufeather, I know a few of those artists, but I will definitely be checking out the others! So, for some more current developments, here's an ongoing battle from Facebook, between me and this dude Carlos that used to hang out in my old neighborhood. These are the first two rounds. I'll update with the 3rd, whenever he posts. I think my last verse has him shook, though. Hahaha. Relevance... when it comes to you I just don't feel it / Cognizant is ya name and frankly... I just can't fear it ! / your mothafuckin' rhymes...NOBODY wants to hear it... your already dead... I GUESS I'm BATTLING YA SPIRIT. / but you best take a detour cuz you headin' straight to hell... yeah a place for sinners and yo your booty crack smells / ... You been gettin' fucked in the ass every which way repeatedly.... ain't no chance in seeing me.... don't you get tired of lyrical sodomy... you must like it ... EXTREMELY !!! / But I knew you were gay... ain't no use in trying to hide it / you took a vacation to "The Keys" of all places WITH ALL MEN... TRY DENYING IT ! What kind of HOMO are you ? A big one ? A Black one ? Who the fuck cares all I know is that your WHACK SON ! This is enough for one night..... I'll kill you some more tomorrow Relevance? Really? I'm surprised you could SPELL the shit. My rhyme style's a scythe. I'll reap and take you to Hell with it. Locito Quevedo. Que lindo. My little rhyming bambino. Trying to spit with the big boys. Just don't tell him he's weak tho. Cause he gets a bit rowdy, and it's "THUG LIFE, FOOL! HOLLA!"... All bark and no heart like a limp-dicked Chiquaqua. But I'll prop where it's due. You're no lyrical Zeus, but you keep on comin back for more rhythmic abuse. You try to act hard, but there's no way to hide it. I'm forever fuckin you with my flow...AND YOU LIKE IT. Little industry slut who gets wet by a cold verse. I'm conditioned for stamina. So you always FLOW FIRST. (Think about it. It'll sink in. Haha) Why try to deny that I chill with my boyz, in "the Keys of all places?" Bitch, please. Kill that noise. I'm a grown-ass man. I know you can't relate. Don't need to surround myself with sluts to advertise that I'm straight. But you could be the fuckin Bachelor, with 50 bitches on your pencil dick,... And STILL end up alone, cuz you fuck like you rap, boy. IMPOTENT. You claim my flow is IMPOTENT like you some rap prophet ... but the truth is I can count every girl you've had sex with on ONE HAND ... STOP IT. / You think your rhymes are hard but your the one who needs VIAGRA... your CIALIS laced rhymes don't flow.... they FALL like NIAGRA ! / Your rap style's a Scythe.... Really.... I guess your KILLING ME ... SOFTLY ...... nigga LAUREN HILL is harder than you.... I dare you to try and STOP ME ! / My rap style perplexes as it vexes... your whack fuckin' ass CUZ YOU GOT SERVED IN 1 SENTENCE ! But its ok...god states forgiveness so I'll give a chance at repentance...but I doubt it'll happen... You'll stay more bitch than HERBAL ESSENCE ! / Haha! Now THAT'S more like it! Let's get this shit crackin! And pretend that whack shit you first spit never happened! Back to the issue. Here, bitch, take a tissue. Cause when this shit's through, not even your momma will miss you. And you front like it's not, but it's breakin your heart. You're Love-Less. Even your friendships were fake from the start! Who gives-a-fuck, if-you-fuck sixty-plus women, If they were all dirty-foot, "buttahr-faced" chickens? Haha. "Quality over Quanity" I hope you remember the quote. Banged badder bitches than you've had circle "NO" in your LOVE NOTES!! You say you perplex? Well, your riddles...I solved 'em. I'm CALCULUS, PUNK. You're a FIFTH GRADE WORD PROBLEM. Are you STILL holding back? If so, you better get serious. Cause your "P"re-"EM"tive "S"trike got You BLEEDING, bitch. PERIOD! To be continued...

[blackjack]

Haha damn Oneironaut! I'm definitely likin that first reply haha

[Oneironaut Zero]

Lmfao. Thanks, man! And I think I scared him off. He's been all over Facebook, but hasn't replied yet. Mwuahaha.

[Baggins]

...Epic!

[Oneironaut Zero]

Guillotine You could say I've got an axe to grind, but it makes me no difference. Could be a rusty pocket knife for all I care, 'cause this is just me checkin' off my hit list. No time for clean incisions. Fuckin blow y'all off like Gambit, chuckin deuces at you bitches. Too many snakes and snitches, gettin' too big for their britches. It's time to handle business and drop y'all like hittin switches, or flickin' cigs into ditches. That's it! Down with this sickness! Don't need your shit in my life - flush you right out of existence! No CSI up in this. Ain't no need to call forensics. Carve my name into your skin so niggaz know who left you lid-less. Deadin' mothafuckas like they're immuno-deficient. Abortin' em. Cut the cord and leave em in fetal positions. You two-face goons were bound to lose, like supervillains. Removin' you from the picture, like photoshoppin' an image. I'm a defensive line, mind set on stoppin' your scrimage. Striking you down like divine intervention. God as my witness! Fucking devils bleeding me dry. Sinking their teeth and feeding off this meakness of mine. Mistook my kindness for weakness. Got it twisted, cause I ain't the dude to sport a short fuse, but I'm quick to sever ties, like a bullet through a noose. Bitch, POOF! Be gone! You best believe this talk is real shit. No tricks. I ain't fuckin' David Copperfield! But since you Freaks like playing Mind games with your peers, pull a Criss Angel and levitate the fuck up out of here! Haha! And don't let the ceiling fan clip you when you jet, Cuz. One way or another, bitch, I'm choppin' heads like lettuce. "No longer welcome" is what it's gon' say on your tombstone. You suckaz are already dead to me. I think it's time You knew, though. In my future, you're a no-shows. Death Row. The court is through with ya. Call me the Judge and jury, and this flow's the executioner. I'm out! Deal with it! Makin tracks on you cats so fast I must have got whiplash, cause I ain't never lookin back!

[Oneironaut Zero]

A couple of works in progress (More verses left to write on them...): I'm A Monster Like fire and brimstone from Heaven, me and my brethren rain down on you cowards. You're gettin bombed on by veterans. No pain pills or sedatives, to numb you. No medicine will remedy this lyrically-based infection setting in. I stomp on you ants to the beat. Guts I'm steppin in are flooding the gutters and streets and death is in the air. Reaping all you gits. Your repetitive, simplistic bullshit gets me vexed and then crevices crack open in my footsteps. Each punch blemishes the earth. Hit you harder than moms did, as little kids. No repentance for your sins. Your fears are my fetishes. It's War of the Words. Your crimes are your sentences. Give a fuck about your dividends, your hoes, or where you're reppin, kid. I'll eat you alive, just the same - East or West, ya dig? Go ahead, bitch, fetch the pigs. SWAT won't want to mess with this. I'm knocking down your towers like a two-mile-tall terrorist. Some call me a perfectionist, cause I'm so clever with these tongue-tingling tactics which ransack your rhetoric. Reduce your rhymes to rubble. Mass blood bath is imminent when I come around. Poppin' y'all like pills, Pez and M&M's... Mirrors No one said life is fair, but all the world's a fun house. An endless hall of mirrors always psyching everyone out. People get distracted by the changes in perception and then they tend to forget to recognize their own reflections. Short-sighted. Identity goes far beyond our faces. Look inside and try to learn to find yourself in situations. For instance; those tears she cried last night, cause you were missing, were a chance to see yourself. But you blinked, and must have missed it. You tell her that you love her, knowing that she'll stand beside you, losing sight of the fact that it's your actions that define you, not your image. Whether you're outspoken or timid, or heartbroken or livid, relaxed, jokin' or rigid, the fact is there's a difference between, acts and intentions. And life refracts your soul, but reflects no fiction. Just truth in what you do, you see words come cheaper than pictures. Be honest with yourself...who do YOU see in the mirrors? Prototype Forged in the fires of a mad man's world. Some call me abomination, they're hatin' the truth I hurl. Some call me the perfect weapon. I'm wreckin the competition. Some love me - with none above me - respect and support my mission. But everyone must admit this: my style's unorthodox like clashing socks. Built from fallen scraps of the dead Planet Rock. Been given life by the power of a movement. Talent surging through my circuits. There's no room for improvement. The truth is that I'm futuristic, with the tools to prove it. Like a super-solider suit. You goons ain't ready for this new shit. Niggaz be spittin hollow points at me like bullets. But I'm armored to the core and just deflecting all their bullshit. Got an aura that would scorch the Earth, if I ever went critical, but programmed to maintain myself, and keep my conflicts minimal. Beneath all this material, there's a ghost within the digital. Not a soulless machine. A living, breathing individual. Heart filled with compassion, until it's time to take action. Then I'm blastin at bad men like a nuclear reaction. Fresh off the line and one of a kind, like Robocop. Patrolling through the times and trying to bring the tyrants to a stop. A one man army, designed to survive at all costs. Bombing y'all with art that's set to spark a second renaissance. But it's a battle hard fought, since the beginning. There're so few who'll stand beside me, and the enemy is many. And they're coming out the woodwork - every nook and cranny - like a colony of army ants campaigning to attack me. See I, may be a marvel of cosmic engineering, and able to break opponents with no emotion or feeling, but damn! When it comes down to it, I'm still mostly human. Superior firepower but limited distribution. I'm holding my own, though. Outnumbered by these losers, like I'm grabbing my nuts on a bus full of drug abusers. But if I must, I'll sweep up 'til I turn to dust. Though ya boy could use some backup. Just sayin'. No rush. Cause if it's now or later, I'mma fight until my last breath. And if I stand alone I won't regret my actions at death. Heavenly access. Life is just another passed test. You think I'm going quietly, go 'head and take one last guess. I'm causing ruckus. Got you motherfuckers ducking under covers Tunes got you loony fools Buggin like the Warner Brothers....

[AURON]

Not bad at all bro...I remember when I used to go all Cookie Monster on whack characters in my rhymes too. I liked prototype the best and mirrors was a close second. The punchlines in Prototype is what did it to me. I could see mirrors as more of a poem than just a rhyme, but that's just me.

[Oneironaut Zero]

If I throw in a hook, I'll probably cut it off right about there, but I'm thinking about just keeping it going for a couple more bars. I dunno yet. I definitely feel it's not finished yet, because I would have to finish stronger than what I already have at the end.

[Oneironaut Zero]

Thanks, man. Yeah, mirrors is definitely said with more of a poetic vibe than my usual rhymes. I definitely want to take it deeper, but I'm just not all too sure about what else I want to write about, yet. I love Prototype, also. That's my most recent one. I was thinking about trying to split it up into verses, but I just like it as a steady stream of rhymes. I'll upload an audio file of it, sometime soon.

[AURON]

Well you got 32 bars +8....you could turn something into a hook or you could spit them all, and have the hook come on at the end to a fadeout.

[Oneironaut Zero]

Just found this audio file in one of my folders. It's a rough draft of the Prototype rhyme. Prototype Demo by Cognizant1 on SoundCloud - Create, record and share your sounds for free Not necessarily the beat I plan on keeping with it, but I think it sounds ok for a sound test.

[Oneironaut Zero]

Figured I'd start posting some of the matches from the Rap Battle thread in here, as well! Oneironaut vs. Mark75 Mark75 There once was a mod they called O'. He was rather unfunny and slow. Spam and lulz were Mark's game, then O' did the same, Yet just Mark was banned, don't you know? Oneironaut Mic check, mic check, is Mark's intelligence on? Must I remind him of shit the boy knew all along? Yes we, DV staff, took part in a lil spammage. And yes, it was LIKE what led Mark to his bannage, But still, there's a difference. I'm surprised that you missed it. That's ok, sit back while I summarize the logistics. We all pulled a prank. Just one bit. Just one day. But you, Mark, MAKE your mark by always posting that way. You're predictable as a female's menstrual cycle, Act like you're unique, but online? There's Millions like you. And yet, with all this, you skip past one great detail, You ASKED for your bannage. Want pity? Epic Fail. But hey, the past is just that. No need to be bitter. You're a snot, but I love being your babysitter. Mark75 Hey, babysitter, you're my bitch for the day. Get making me food while I run and play. But you're right, fair enough, I skipped over some parts, such as the crybaby members and the bleeding hearts, which were whining and pouting as you trolled them for hours, made a mess of the forum, abusing your powers. Did anyone mention that your prank was stupid? Yet correct, it was LIKE what I did: Like my one little topic, which went away moments after; had all of the stupid, but none of the laughter. Oneironaut Ha! I can't help but laugh at the bullshit you're spoonin' me. You can't HAVE a bitch, Mark, until you've hit puberty! You don't have to mention your biased opinion, We know you're mad cause DV's not your dominion. So it's no surprise that it's in the past that you wollow. Yes your topic went away, why can't your ego follow? We got plenty of laughter with our antics, kid, But you see what you want, like senile folks on 'cid. Abusing our powers? What? Pardon me, madame, But aren't you just mad cause we used 'em and you wish that you had em? But seriously, all that aside, you're out of your element You're comic relief, I'll grant you that, but as "tough" you're irrelevant Especially in this game of rap, though I'm sure you'll ignore it. I'd say hit me back but I doubt your waning "rep" could afford it. Mark75 You keep on saying that I'm stuck in the past, but your "holier than thou" is current since I checked last. What you just aren't getting other than getting pissed, is you're attacking a person that doesn't exist. You're making up some straw man in your head, telling me about things that I never said, but instead, of getting caught up in your game, I think I'll just watch you go down in a flame. The brain, you claim you have in your skull rattles 'round like a rock, or maybe it's two. Regardless, let this truth I speak ring: On me, about me, you ain't got a thing. Oneironaut Hey, I just call 'em like I see em when given the clues You've got 1,700 posts of evidence, pick that which you choose. I'm just going off your illusions of grandeur, my man. Your posts are Always self absorbed, like it was God's plan. You say I'm killing strawmen? Yo, you best get your facts right, You just can't see the truth with your head shoved up your backside! And please...I'm getting pissed? Really, Mark...how could you say this? Honestly I got more worked up when I slayed Ominus Deus! But, hey, once again you show you're stuck in hallucinations On the day you beat me send that snowball in Hell my salutations! Cause as it stands, here in the physical, you can't match my material, My spit's deep but your parlor Trix Are For Kids just like the Cereal! Oh, damn, look what time it is. Round three's up. This match is over. The foreplay's gotten stale, it's time to pwn you, bitch, bend over! Mark75 Huh? Come again? Was I supposed to be offended? By this illusion of domination of which you've pretended? I'd be on defense, but there's no attack to be defended. So don't be so quick to think I'll let you mount all I see is nonsense in high amount, but as it turns out your word count don't count. Oneironaut It's ok, man. I'm here. Try not to head toward the light. You took a nasty fall from that last lyrical fight. Just keep your breathing steady, try not to force too much movement. Next time you try to take me on, try, first, to seek some improvement. But really, 3 rounds are over. In rap, you're no William Wallace. You'd know to stop at three rounds but, see, you're still a novice. Who knows, maybe next time you won't find yourself mounted. You might even stand a chance! Really....! ....but somehow I doubt it. (Hehe.) More to come!

[Oneironaut Zero]

Oneironaut vs. Universal Mind Universal Mind Well, I was really leaving an open invitation by calling all of you "little bitches", hoping to battle somebody specific. The people I want to battle the most have not shown up in here yet. But since you think you're bad enough to run your mouth at me when you're nothing but a Florida pooo ssssy Come on down with your bald head that's hollow I can't remember... Does your lady spit or swallow? Oneironaut Now why don't it surprise me you'd be talking about my head? Should I rip you with no mercy or just humor you instead? Callin me a Florida Pooosssy? Seriously. What's that about? You just confused cause the last poooossssy you saw shot your punk ass out! And I didn't run my mouth, I was just mindin my business, trying to point you in the right direction. This whole thread's my witness. But since you wanna call me out, then let the games begin, But it's only fair I call you out that closet that you're in. I'll take you as an opponent. The more the marrier. And "does my lady spit or swallow?" Ask your dad. He married her! Universal Mind Dear Oneironaut, The last pooosssy I saw was you in a photo The one before that was on your ho I call Toto I was playing about not recalling that she swallows She's reminding me right now She'll remind me twice tomorrow The closet you brought up, and your subconscious caused it You were sleeping but it heard me and Toto in your closet You call yourself a moderator when you're really just a superpimp hater Don't cry on the way back to your trailer knowing you've been schooled and you'll get more schooling later Oneironaut You call the ho you fuck Toto? Ha! In actuality I'm not surprised your pet name for her relates to beastiality. Your mentality's twisted. I knew this all along, but it takes a wack-job to name his mistress after A Dog! But hey, whatever floats your boat. If that's the shit that you're into I've got a lonely German Shepard you're welcome to attend to. Despite your alias, we know your cluelessness is limitless. Universal Mind? You should be renamed Local Ignorance! You're no hindrance to my reign when it comes to this battle Tried to dump on me but found yourself up Shit's Creek with no paddle. So fight the current while I prepare to X you off of my checklist. I'm done with you at just Round Two. Round Three will be your pearl necklace. Universal Mind The reason that I once came up with the name Toto for your superslutty ho that I bang is that the grand master mac daddy pimp that I am has so many hoes that the bottom hoochies stand out as something so much less than the top notch goddesses in my mass supply of biotch Too bad your fat mama couldn't meet my need except decades ago when I planted the seed of the punk ass special ed bitch called Oneironaut who loves to fuck real dogs but just hasn't been caught Oneironaut Third and final round. Shit is final now, Gather round, and witness the demise of ol' Universal Da Clown. Talking bout he's got squads of females, like he fucks entire teams, Guess it's appropriate, seeing as how this is a website 'bout our dreams. Oh, just so you know, UM, I don't mean to imply you're slow, But I used the "yo' momma" angle 'bout, oh, say, a round ago. It's all good, though, you were just panicking, dude. If I was looking wack as you, I'd have tried anything, too! And did you say "daddy mac?" Look, Gramps is bringing back past words! Figures you'd quote from Kriss-Kross, like them, your style is ass-backwards! You should have heeded the parental advisory, slut, Now look. You're cold and the undertaker's sizing you up. Will see, in time, if you'll want more or will just bury the hatchet. So long, UM. Somebody help me carry this casket. Universal Mind Oh, okay, running away you say? That's what I thought when I first set out and fought Oneironaut my crybaby son I taught not to cower out in the midst of his onslaughts of crying while struggling to spit out his store bought lameness, so much the same as a chihuahua barking bolting from a bad great dane's ass Kriss Kross's Mac Daddy/Daddy Mac was the name of one of your heroes that's the source of your game? The term mac daddy was big before your idols, and it looks like their method is your rap game Bible Now that I know where your fanship lies I can laugh some more at how your nursery rhymes died Oneironaut Alright, so it’s been a minute, but now I’m back in the cipher. Battles are flying everywhere. Calm down, folks, don’t be so hyper! Organize your bouts. Cold and Jeff are doing this like it was meant to be. I’ll give them props for now, but worry, I’ll slay them eventually! UM, I saw your post-bout spit. I know you’re holding back the tears. Don’t cry cause our battle’s over, just like your rap career. See I’d love to indulge the whims of all the whack rappers I’m meetin, But I’m a lil too busy to cater to suckaz who can’t let it go when they’re beaten. Not trying to duck out, though, or deny you your pleasure, So I killed you in this spit as well, for good measure. But it’s time to move on, now. I’ve paid my respects, Rest in peace now, UM. It’s been fun. Now who’s next? Ah, Xox. Sorry, kid. Almost forgot about you. But I’m sure, even absent, I still would have topped you. You sure you really wanna go through with this challenge? Might wanna take a few years to practice. Restore the balance. Cause now it’s uneven. Take this as a warning. You’re better off gaining your fame in a porn ring. Cause here, in this battle, you’re facing deletion You’ll call me Master by this battle’s completion.