I’m beamin’

I’m beamin’

(Asher Roth)

My aura takes the form of the aurora borealis
Or a floral pattern, more or less a forest to your salad
The neural path I’ve traveled has immediate reaction
Can’t you see that I am beaming? I’ll be leaving in a second
Sipping magic from a chalice, detached from the distractions
At last, I can relax, looking past all of the action
fraction or a fragment of me actually is present
The rest of me is heavenly, the seventh house’s zenith
Yes, the fence intimidates, it’s meant to keep you out (But)
Let your senses resonate and leap it in a bound (‘Cause)
Freedom isn’t found inside a visa or a crown
And even the voice of reason couldn’t speak it out loud (But)
Mortals are immortal when their soul has been imported
To a source that is more sovereign, important to the whole (Whole)
This is the warmest moment of a poet turned heroic
As he slowly comes to focus, go ahead and watch me glow

(Charles Hamilton)

Rey Mysterio flow, stayin’ clear
Of makeup-smeared hatin’ [bad word]  makin’ clear this is spiritual
Though a spirit you owe, church final
Your funeral in an arena, you searchin’ for fire
Or titles, or tidal waves
Tie the game like a shot from outside when it’s 95 to 98
To throw slid into you left-side broke (Niggas!) (Beam!)
Boa constrictor, chokin’ (Niggas!), the grown man (Beam!)
Pawns mean, your controllers get broken  [bad word] ) (Beam!)
Anarchy in the Ford, you need to focus  [bad word] ) (Beam!)
Love, I get none, like sayin’ no to niggas
Hamiltonian’s loneliness, so I hold my (Beams!) (Niggas!)
I logged on to see a c-section, a gross display
Sleep never, and Rolaids, deep lessons won’t go away
I keep pressin’ like my phone is afraid
To be the star, so I end it and pound it, see what the code can say

(Lupe Fiasco)

Calling all the good rappers, had to get my crew together
Fire like the fire flower, flyer than the super feather
Superman with two propellers, enter that, ninja rap
You can call it Super Shredder, boss scene, Ross theme
You can call it super better, new to this, Ludacris
Foolishness, Lu been doin’ this since super letters
So I can’t spell and can’t mail it out
If you can’t feel, it’s too full, you can’t peel it out
Showboatin’ at the show, but you can’t sell it out
I’m on the sea shepherd deck, helpin’ the whales out
All my egos in the mirror, checkin’ themselves out
Tweeters in the trunk, helpin’ the twelves out
The speakers on bump, the rappers on acne
This track is what would happen if the rastas meet the mathletes
Yes, sir, then the Chess Club got dressed up
And went and took all the [bad word] of the athletes

(Mikey Rocks)

Big up to what’s been up, [bad word] Pin-ups from when we clicked up and posed for these pictures, good
And the kids connected up, and they clicked snap
Hollerin’, “Yeah, we weighed on the iPhone scale app!”
Without fail, the best to ever do it just will
Haven’t done it all, but we got copy wheelwell, though
But it ain’t no sweat, I got a whole outfit
And a new [bad word] cap that I ain’t wore out yet
(Check, check, check) And I’m beamin’
Yeah, and I seen it, like a twenty-seven inch Zenith
Projected widescreen, now they got it 3D
Now we NBA’d up from development leagues

(Chuck English)

Ay, yo, they pale in comparison to stories we tell
Man, he see me on the hovercraft and he got a sail
Bubble [bad word] Brenda, stacked up in the window
Of whatever ‘Lac truck pick her up, retail [bad word]  what? It just hit me like a Mack truck semi
On my last trip to Sydney in the Sheraton lobby
Grab my coattails and get a grip (Grab ‘em)
You want the truth? Well, the truth is
This is it, pointin’ out the differences
This is exquisite [bad word]  riveting, isn’t it?
Lizard king loafers on swole when I’m kickin’ it
Joe, the live [bad word]  real rig-a-marole
You a handshake away, and them fingers is cold

(Bl