When the weather rolls in
and drips the inspiration into your skin,
you feel the sun shine bright
as if the clouds didn’t win.
It’s the high pressure systems,
that bring the love from up north,
all the way down south for support.
Droplets of creativity
backed with the same credibility,
flow down from up north
from Minneapolis Minnesota,
where the Rhymesayer’s lyrics
make you feel a bit older.
Pumping ideas and insanity
into that head on your shoulders.
Several obsessions
lead their various discretions,
and multiple impressions.
Spawn moved on,
and left behind Sean,
trying to bury himself
in the love of women that are gone.
But the beats, music, flow,
follow everywhere you go,
no matter how long or how far,
still a get word in edgewise,
while you’re with her in the back of your car.
And Murs,
can’t say much about him without his verse,
you need his words and his mind extended
to understand his curse.
So what can you say?
Besides “I hope you have a nice day,”
or “enjoy your life and maybe try to get laid.”
Who knows.
I can’t speak for anyone else,
but I get my own sorrows
and quite a few more,
from friends, family
and the Rhymesayers up north.