Wu-Tang told me to bring the ruckus, so I thought about what it’s like to be one of us.
Gifted individuals, lyrical spirits, operating independently upon our own merits.
Held down by corporate oppressors, lifers and lack of successors.
Non-believers and haters, and moral transgressors.
Who don’t give a damn about our true profession, and why must we use these terms of aggression.
No it’s not misbehavior, or random acts of defiance, it’s our passion for words that speak our alliance.
Let’s bring it back to words in a book or a journal, let’s keep it 100, lets spit knowledge eternal.
I don’t need a beat to justify my lines, I just want to prove to the world, that although I don’t rap
You can still appreciate my rhymes. I want you to feel me, my poetry is fundamental.
I want you to read me, and not be judgmental. I want you to think, and not just bob your head.
I want you to learn me and to quote what I said. My passion is here, it’s going to be everlasting.
I hunger is growing, and there’s no point in fasting. I plan on going in for seconds and thirds.
It’s like a Vegas buffet as I serve you with words.
It’s poetry baby, enough of this toiling, I’ve been wound like a snake, and I’m no longer coiling.
I’m jumping at you, loud and so crystal clear. Let’s make some noise now, please lend me your ear.
I want to be the voice that the radio fear, I want to bring thunder when my poetry’s near.
I think that you get it, let’s all rise and stand tall. This is a poetry storm, so to my writers I call.
Let’s do this thing, and smash the nay sayers, lets go get our dreams and conquer our prayers.
I’m confident in all of us as much as I love; this art that we share, our gift from above.
Together we’ll rise above all the nonsensical rubbish, the revolution will not be televised.
But it sure will be published.
-Showtorious (Originally Spoken)