Medi

This life isn't practical, It's distant and negative, objective and tactical. Reminiscent of excrement. We live as pessimists, against our pleasantness, That's why existence becomes a taxable benefit. Our apathy, it feeds it for definite, Can you see the relevance between perspective and heritage? We align with minds that perpetuate this detriment, The incentive to take is one of our cultural messages. The couch's elephant. We're under a sedative, a mystery prejudice, In a competitive premises with competitive premisses, Repetitive negativeness, Pitting friendlies as nemesis', So some executives can garner some better leverages, For decadence. Like nothing is relative, so just kill or be killed, Stamp on the weak, and springboard off your ilk, Treat your ills and eat some of these bias pills, While the higher powers use you to buy their silks. While you get billed for these fiat thrills. Oil is drilled. So they can spoil this Earth and this age where we live. When you give into this lie and lay down your quill, The soil that grows is traded for gild. If the human condition is will, then the prevalent reign, Those with the temperament are the ones with the 'brains', It's frankly insane, see I wish for release, I'm like a fish bein' judged for climbing on trees. 'Free's a resonant word, by it we're coerced, To believe that we've earned a right to live and converse, To learn as we wish and trade as we can, But freedom's reversed; we're immersed in this sham. The system's a scam and we flock for its needs, To the capital streets to refract what they've seen, But in fact we provide all the juice for this ride, And prove to their kind we're just foolish and blind. This time we're the herd, we're soldiers in ditches, Preaching a verse, while they're reaping the riches, Building a bridge, damn, it's an elegant thought, An excellent cause, all till this regiment falls. Cowardice stalls and empowers withdrawal, Louder they call while we all cower and crawl. Till the speaker is all, it's our master, our mind, IF we assimilate their views we allow them their crimes. See everything depends on the way that we fantasize, Anomie's eye will see singularity, fine, But valour in malady is filled with pageantry, Separating flesh and skeleton into different galaxies. So I say everything is relative, nothing is truth, It's a tentative premise, proved with delicate proof, I can juxtapose the 'facts' with nothing but facts So stop with this act, and help me fill in these cracks. I'm a valuable element, besides martyrs, registrants, Celebrants, Methodists, Muslims and effigies. This kind's resplendence shows up their kind's offensiveness, Killing peasants for some coinage and cents shit, That shit is just senseless. These are radical testaments to a flammable tenement, With palpable references hidden under the evidence. Yes, we're animal residents of a planet that's negligent, But I'm f*cked if I accept we're all lacking in sentiment. Copyright 2014. All Rights Reserved by the poster

Yea my audio workstation packed in on me so I'm using an old laptop at the minute and can't mix

You probably haven't EQ'd the other tracks enough and your mid frequencies are getting clogged. As well as that, make sure some instruments are panned out. Typically your guitar should be two mono tracks (exactly the same) one panned full left and one panned full right. If you take out the bass in your snare, take out some trebles in your bass guitar etc etc you'll create 'room' for your keyboard. Use a stereo expander on your keyboard if necessary to blend it. Then compress your master.

Lol some parts of this were actually very good. the odd syllable count didn't bother me, some lines can be longer than others and it still flows. Overall I liked the idea of this, the twist was cool too, and some of the lines showed a good vocabulary and grasp of form. However, some of this seemed to be 'filler'. Can I tinker with it? I hate rap with a passion, it's all face, talk and trash, crass with no fashion, just a fad thatt'll pass, So ask why I'm rappin, why am I flappin my gums with this crap then? I'm drunk writin' captions, undercutting this rap shit. this genre abhorred Must not be ignored, I hear it all day Decided to try it, view it inside it, so I could deride it and be on my way But lo and behold, the truth to be told as it starts to unfold and I'm puttin this down I'm startin to wake. now this takes the cake: Shit, I'm comin around! I'm gettin this deal as I jot down and spiel the words that I feel, man this is unreal I'm feelin bolder and better, unfettered and free not tethered to whatever held back my release, Call me unhinged,, say that rap should be binned, But don't dismiss it again If you haven't tried it, to deride it's, a shame, a spin explicit as sin It's not all crap, cause not all rap is the same Some I'll defame, but sometimes I'll get it, sometimes I'll be game Hey what can I say, I think maybe my view has been changed I love rap with a passion these days, Now I got beats to arrange.

Personally I thought it was a bit dry. Perhaps you were rhyming words just to 'fill the gaps'? I couldn't imagine this on audio to be honest, it's average. (Don't take it personally, we all start somewhere). But I have a few tips for you, if you want to write rap lyrics. Firstly, think about your structure. I've written LOTS of rap songs and structure directly relates to flow. Let me give you an example of a simple scheme. I'll highlight the flow and emphasis points. 'He walked through broken glass in his own skin, With a knife getting jabbed in his broke ribs' This scheme has both two words at the end of each sentence, which rhyme, but also a rhyme in the middle of the sentence. Multiple rhymes are one thing that make the difference between an average rap and a good one. But even this can be taken further. 'He roamed back, black and purple through glass in his own skin, With a whole inch of steel getting jabbed in his broke ribs.' The scheme/flow is arguably the most important aspect of rap, after the ideas. Lyrical content in rap music can be about anything, and the actual IDEA you have is quite good - the school bully. But your execution seems a little flat and unoriginal. The words you've used to rhyme are common, and your scheme is more like simple poetry than rap. However, there's no reason your ideas can't be presented with much more force and effort. Some things to think about are the perspective the rap is written from. Can you try writing it from the bully's perspective? What about giving two sides of the argument? For instance, bullies are often bullied at home. Just like a story or an article, rap can have a much more profound effect when it consider's both sides of the 'argument'. You could expand your story to take in the cause and effect of life. He gets bullied, he bullies others, and others bully. At the moment you portray your disdain for the bully, which is fine, but what about some deeper introspections of yourself? Is self confidence an issue? Is there a reason this bully takes up so much of your psyche that you've dedicated a whole rap to him? Here's a quick idea. 'The bully retorts with perspective force, HIs invective forged as an effective scorn, I reflect, engorged in my vex, ignore him then inflect my voice so it's just ice and storm shit, He's alone, of course, gets no rights with his own hurts, Like his whole world is just an vindictive plight, a cold curse, With my own verbs I think I'm higher than whole worlds, above him, Disgusted I cuss him, but find this whole verse .. Shows I've become him' .. That's obviously a bit abstract but you get the idea. You project a very singular view for the reader. You hate the bully, is the overall message, but it needs depth.

I think it'd be much more difficult to write without any 'the' in this kind of format. Since it is a story I am continually needing to address the subject of the sentence which is often done with a 'the', but actually, looking at it, not many of my songs for guitar for instance, have a 'the'. I probably made it quite awkward for myself.

Since this particular hippy wants his lyrics to be all encompassing, I'm sure he'll enjoy a multisyllabically rhyming, conceptual lyric about our universe, spirituality and our place in it - from a view of one mans experiences. A man ruminating at a tree .... Diverted away from his comfort into a furnace and fell, to see No fervour, just shells - some hollow humans as well. He followed this smell – char - like it was cumin incense, Found a bitumen world in his head, coarse and putrid with stench. He drew his laments. His moral defence was credible. His chorus was 'crude and metal are simply not edible.' 'You’ve got to be ethical. Come on and be sensible.' While from our secular pedestal; humans are something dispensable. Do you think that he's sensible? What power is his? He asks 'How hurt could be helped', in these times that we live. His shoulders almost collapsed, from a weight; this world that we carry. The suffrin' of masses might have made him worried and angry. But epiphany struck him, just before his burden got savage. 'Light!' It brought him back to a spirit he married. She told him 'They're certainly ravaged; I can see their scars. You pity their lives, it's littered with baggage. But I believe they are just whatever you see that you are. You have an open heart, if a little riddled with habits'. He snapped back to reality, like ‘Almost, I had it!' In oneness, clarity, he believed we all could be happy. So he threw a question: 'Spirit, just tell me what is your wisdom?' She asked 'How could we not exist, since we never existed?' His mind was poised, relinquished noise, his worries were melt; His inner voice went from nervy to well - from hurt to flourishing health. While learning of innermost wealth he attained absence of self, And drunk water of life spurting forth from eternity's wells. Modernity fell in his mind; currency toppled and crashed; Conformity turned to absurdity; disharmony crumbled to ash; Geysers of knowledge erupted ‘til 'knowing' was stupid; Then his mind's eye saw, until vision was useless. That’s when he basked in light from infinite suns; While codes of existence inscipted as prints on his fingers and thumbs. Nebulae rose, lived, and died; they shattered and birthed. All this in his mind - just some grey matter from Earth?