W.o.P. IV Round 4: Daz vs. Chris Black

Link: http://www.rapbattles.com/forum/show...-359846p2.html


Daz's verse:

Writer's Note: These are my real feelings. This isn't a story or some kind of characterization. This is my life. Enjoy.

To My Father.

You see all I ever wanted was for you to hold my hand
And watch over me as I live daily in this hopeless land
Talk is cheap. I get nothing out of the words spoken and..
Now i've grown from a troubled youth into a broken man
& i wish I could troubleshoot. But I feel like i'm nothing to
You. Every family doesn't feel like the huxtables
It's like you've never been comfortable. With me..
So through our history we clash over everything that I fucking do.
What do you want me to fucking do!?
See the problem is..you've regretted me since the condom ripped
So i 've done the best that I could just using common sense.
I wish you'd stop telling people my mom's a bitch
And it's not that im rebelling i'm just doing the opposite
I feel like I raised myself.
To me my mother is an angel but I was raised in hell
& our relationship is only picture perfect in 8 x 12
& everyone says I look like you so I started to hate myself.
& to your family man
I'm not a family man..I just learned to fake it well
I even aborted my baby.
Not because I couldn't support her but lately..
It's just my thoughts been bordering crazy..
& when she grew up I didn't want my daughter to hate me.
But I don't hate you.
It's just you won't accept the fact that we've grown apart.
& through my childhood you tried to give me cash to comfort a lonely heart.
Now my brother gets used for cover
& how can I respect women when you abused my mother
Your nothing but a stupid fucker.
And if it was a slow death or live with you I would choose to suffer
Your why I had to lose my hope
And our fist fights only bruised my soul
While you used your token child to get through the tolls
I chose to pursue my goals
Here's my confession.
Though you might not agree with my direction
All you had to do was show me love and some affection
But you chose neglection instead of showing me the lessons..
That every child needs so they can grow up to perfection.
& now I smoke to the ease the pain
Where I see progress you say i'm needing change
So I went in the hood and pledged allegiance to gangs
Just for the freedom of brain
so I can forget that im the only seed with your name
This anger is keeping me sane
Because you've never believed
You've always treated my brother like he was better then me
Now our seperation is nearing closer to seven degrees
And in this game of life it seems like we play in separate leagues.
The streets helped me get ahead of fears
I'm scared that if you died I wouldn't even shed a tear
& I hope that 08 well be a better year. For us to start bonding better
But we argue and fight whenever we spend time together
That's why I lived with my moms forever.
What i'm saying then...
..though i'm absent from the family picture
Im glad you and your wife had me a sister
because you don't know how to raise men.
But maybe one day I can follow your stride
After I learn how to forgive you and I can swallow my pride.









Chris Black's verse:

Moving Portrait

On my face,
Obama wants to break the sad mood,
but I exists, because you like the bad news.
You read his political plight cause you have to,
but trust me, you’ll relapse soon,
and be searching within me for sad tunes,
about the housing markets crash.
Doom is why I have you.
You’ll read about hate crimes,
Natalee Holloway, & how murder rates climes,
but ignore the missing black girl on page nine.
She’s not rich or white enough for you to cry about.
You’ll read in anger that Iraq is dying down,
but Bin Laden’s still hiding out.
You’ll believe a recession is behind the clouds,
and you love it, even tough you deny it, now.
You want bad news. .
. .but not real bad news.
You want to read that gas costs far more,
but not about genocide in Darfor.
You want to read about poison spaghetti sauce,
but not Elijah’s 12-year-old hands, macheteed off
You want to read about Imus spitting hate,
but not about Africa still getting raped.
You want bad news. .
. .but not real bad news.
You want to read that poor people abuse welfare,
but not how many die cause they can’t afford healthcare.
You want to read your team lost in the playoffs,
but not how many people GM layed off.
You want to read that Briteny Spears lost it,
but not how many lives “Freeing Iraq” costed.
You want bad news. .
. .but not real bad news.
So when you see real bad news & loose the grin,
You get upset and feed me to the wind
I take up refuge with bums, never to see you again,
but I am you, beneath the skin.
You need the sin, or you’re going to crack
& To keep warm,
bums will put your “bad news” on there back

They know real bad news.
http://www.archives.gov.on.ca/ENGLIS...eeping_520.jpg