Still may syllables jar with time, Still may reason war with rhyme, Resting never!
Save your wack rhymes, hold your female. Pass the Old Gold, trash the ale. Cash your food stamps, get the WIC out the mail. Love to eat shrimps, but I never eat snail, Eat a whole fish except for the tail. Keep food in the fridge so it don't get stale, And when there's nothing to eat...I bite my nails.
I'd rather make one righteous dollar on my level Than make a million dollars spittin' rhymes for the devil.
I hope there is something worthy in my writings and not merely the novelty of a black face associated with the power to rhyme that has attracted attention.
People only call me 'Fiery' because it rhymes with Fred, just like 'Typhoon' rhymes with Tyson
They use the simple back and forth, the same, old rhythm That a baby can pick up, and join, right with 'em. But their rhymes are pathetic, they think they copacetic Using nursery terms, at least not poetic.
If I upset you, don't stress. Never forget That God isn't finished with me yet. I feel His hand on my brain... When I write rhymes, I go blind and let the Lord do His thang.
Read to your children all of the time Novels and nursery rhymes Autobiographies, even the newspaper It doesn't mater; it's quality time Because once upon a time We grew up on stories in the voices in which they were told We need words to hold us and the world to behold us For us to truly know our souls
School is cool. Thats why it rhymes
I woke up early this mornin' with a new state of mind/ A creative way to rhyme without usin' knives and guns
I think that a rap aficionado, the hardcore rap fan, will always go away from pop, in the same way a hardcore jazz fan will never think Kenny G is really a jazz artist. You gotta kind of know there's always going to be that purist who's going to be like if it ain't beats and rhymes, if there ain't a DJ, then that ain't Hip Hop.
I set it off with my own rhyme / cause I'm as ill as a convict who kills for phone time
Take these words home and think it through; Or the next rhyme I write might be about you.
There!" Mars finished writing and threw the scroll at Octavian. "A prophecy. You can add it to your books, engrave it on the floor, whatever." Octavian read the scroll. "This says, 'Go to Alaska. Find Thanatos and free him. Come back by sundown on June twenty-fourth or die'." "Yes," Mars said. "Is that not clear?" "Well, my lord...usually prophecies are unclear. They're wrapped in riddles. They rhyme, and..." Mars casually popped another grenade off his belt. "Yes?" "The prophecy is clear!" Octavian announced. "A quest!
I drink twenty forties, smoke forty blunts, Say a hundred rhymes, and not sound like you once.
It's been a long time...I shouldn't have left you Without a strong rhyme to step to.
Spend a day talking only in rhyme.
I came in the door, I said it before I never let the mic magnetize me no more. But it's biting me, fighting me, inviting me to rhyme, I can't hold it back...I'm looking for the line. Taking off my coat, clearing my throat, My rhyme will be kicking until I hit my last note.
My heart in passion, and my head on rhymes.
I want to prove that if you write in strict meter and rhyme about subjects people care about, they will buy poetry.
The nursery rhyme ends when a spider comes along and frightens Miss Muffet straight off her tuffet. I have wondered about what kind of lesson this is for a young girl. If you're eating your curds and whey and a spider comes along, I don't think there's anything wrong with picking up a newspaper, smashing it, and going back to your breakfast.
In our language rhyme is a barrel. A barrel of dynamite. The line is a fuse. The line smoulders to the end and explodes; and the town is blown sky-high in a stanza.
The commonest error made in relation to poetry is that it consists simply in verse-making. Many confound the casket of meter and rhyme with the jewel of thought which it encloses, and, perhaps, in some instances, after close investigation, they have found the casket empty and turned away with feelings of disappointment and disgust.
The most powerful words in English are 'Tell me a story,' words that are intimately related to the complexity of history, the origins of language, the continuity of the species, the taproot of our humanity, our singularity, and art itself. I was born into the century in which novels lost their stories, poems their rhymes, paintings their form, and music its beauty, but that does not mean I had to like that trend or go along with it. I fight against these movements with every book I write.
I grew up on the rough side of the tracks. If you looked like you were soft, you would be fodder for the wolves. I came up in my neighbourhood like, 'I'm just gonna be me,' and all the thugs just said, 'It's OK, he's special.' They knew I had the talent with the rhymes, so they kept me around.
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