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Thread: Sacred Scriptures Tournament Finals: OG Maestro Is the Champion!!!!

  1. #1
    ::..VOCABULUS..:: 143's Avatar
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    Sacred Scriptures Tournament Finals: OG Maestro Is the Champion!!!!

    RULES ARE SIMPLE

    NO CHECK, VERSES MUST BE POSTED BY 11/17

    BATTLE WILL BE VOTED ON BY MODS

    48 LINE LIMIT

    OPEN TOPIC

    @King Prince @HighEngineChief

    EXTENSION GRANTED 24HR BEFORE DEADLINE, PM ME AND POST REQUEST IN CHAT....

    GOOD LUCK

  2. #2
    Whatever, Fuck You HighEngineChief's Avatar
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    Re: Sacred Scriptures Tournament Finals: King Prince vs HighEngineChief

    metuo

    Summer night’s in crumpled dive bars drinking up another lie
    Clutching tight to smokey days yet so surprised they slip away
    Though we just may drift astray the tide will drag us up from time
    And once again this rum will cry from hollow eyes distilled with pain
    This inner space that once confined my sins has finally come to light
    Thoughts I cringe confronting twist my stomach as I lick the plate
    Swallow all my pride and then I piss away my fucking life
    Cause when the party’s over I’m still out looking for pills to take
    To fill this aching hole up starving sober feed me crushed up lines
    Dealt a hand of spades- what else can I do but dig my grave ?
    Pilfered rays of hope from wilting street lamps flicker mustard white
    In gray bastions of moonlight knowing they are but a brilliant fake
    Still sedated spilling drank on my shirt and my tongue is dry
    The Sun will shine again but I can’t sleep and it’s three fifty-eight
    I’m still awake in shuttered fright from a vision that I should die
    And never again see the horizon shine upon the city grey

    desperatio

    The liver quakes a rotten thunder shocking shutter of the flesh
    Till sudden sweats and shaking gets to be a lot to drop this umbra
    Follows me at ever step, reminds me of the ones I left
    Behind and on the cusp of death to get high in my mamma’s Tundra
    Lost my brother to a needle on the cupboard by my desk
    Where I would write when we were younger and our broken hearts had hunger
    And a lust unquenched to want the very things we should object
    The fever dreams of bloody sex and drugs we both got caught up under
    I look up at God and wonder what pain he might cook up next
    The butcher blessed the body’s serpent bursts out of my mother’s chest
    A glob destruction robbed her of her life God why you take them from us!
    Staring in the mirror all the faces that I loved are dead
    Hung my head and walked alone among the bones of monsters sundered
    Thinking bout my mamma’s Tundra, thinking bout what could have been
    All this time spent looking in only to find more darkness touching
    Everything in sight- Lord, will anything be good again?

    concino

    For penny dreams I push the pen against the skin of these white pages
    Dig it in and bleed my anguish down where these blue lines run red
    With eyes like two sapphire corpses wet in my imagination
    I can hear their laughter traipsing overtop death’s silent steps
    Such delights have violent ends if only life could be backspaced then
    I’d go home and masturbate then lie in bed in my own mess
    I ain’t got no time to waste with life I’m too infatuated
    With death in the shadows waiting I don’t want to go home yet
    I just want to dance until my toes are red and crack the pavement
    Drink away the past then fade back into black and hold my breath
    I’m going under fast the waves are breaking hard and crashing shapeless
    Foam and weight upon my chest- the empty bottle’s cold caress
    Of olden desk where paper wishes float like ash amidst the wasteland
    Jaundiced cigarette butts that lay in piles of pale faced roaches stretched
    Across the papers I wrote poems about those days when hope made sense
    Staring at words like familiar faces- and all the ones I love are dead

  3. #3
    Revolution II OG Maestro's Avatar
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    Re: Sacred Scriptures Tournament Finals: King Prince vs HighEngineChief

    http://healthland.time.com/2011/09/2...be-psychopaths

    The CEO
    by OGM
    ..
    ..
    ..
    My wife works through cold nights, paid with contract
    So I hire street prostitutes because I crave the contact
    She caught me once but our marriage has made it intact
    It's because of financial stability -- I gave what she lacked
    "Goodbye dear",
    With a sad voice, cause she knows it's fake but she's trapped
    She'll leave her print on my face, nothing greater than that
    Then her breath transforms to ghosts as she fades into black
    But I still plot her murder every night as I wave at her back:
    It starts when I awake & react, thinking "maybe I'll snap"
    Taking it back, until I feel temptation's weight on my cap
    I've been known to be unusual, but to me, it is the usual
    I know I'm heartless, I didn't cry at my mother's funeral
    ...but then it all eases away, she leaves & I lay on my bed...
    Until I'm disturbed; once again, I become afraid of my head,
    Because my brain pulses at the beat my neighbor is making
    Which fucks up the little bit of sleep I had, the favor is taken
    Now when I sleep I'll fuckin' dream of duck-taping her dog,
    Erasing her blog, & leaving her dead body raped in the yard
    Or taking her jaw, fuckin' her face until she's praying to God,
    Mouth gaped into awe, as I record with a handful of scorn
    Then? I'll upload into to pornhub.com: title it "amateur porn"
    I see life black & white, until someone bleeds -- then it's grey
    ...but then it all eases away, she sleeps & I recede into day
    My alarm clock makes me angry... but waking up, who isn't?
    Except my anger is that I'm still alive, & that's the true difference
    Before coffee, I check my bank's last statement: tax evasion
    Democrats & the IRS belong in sewer pipes where rats are pacing
    Drink coffee, throw on clothes, jump in the car -- cruising in lanes
    Each turn swishes around my jars of preserves (human remains)
    If I visit my mother she just asks "how do you cope with the junk?"
    I got a cayenne pepper red 2017 Ford Fiesta, as dope as they come
    Plus there's skeletons inside & other shit, so I never open my trunk
    With a big ass sticker on the back that says "I voted for Trump!"
    Usually some idiot keeps breaking & I say "damn it, what kinda genius"
    Then I wanna put a gun in his shoulder, or start running him over
    ...but then it all eases away, & I manage to find a thesis:
    Of course he's a bad driver, only a faggot would drive a Prius.
    I park, but before I leave...I pull out the bible; the sacred scripture
    Turn to Revelations 12:8...--
    To use the page to clean up after I masturbate to a naked picture
    I walk through the halls of my company full of sunshine, fun, & joy
    All because I'm thinkin' bout all the people I've made unemployed
    I moved all the work overseas, I got children stuck in the closet
    Wages are pennies on the dollar. & I don't give a fuck, it's a profit
    Not to mention I'll step on anybody to succeed if I fail with a route
    I'm happy that kids have student debt but banks are bailing me out
    To hell with everybody else, I don't belong or work for a nation
    I'm in this for me. "We the People" & my money have no correlation
    Someone like me isn't in jail, or on a prison floor just pacing
    Nor am I being diagnosed & medicated in a psych ward location
    & nor am I a troubled 30-year old son in his mom's horrid basement
    I'm just your friendly neighborhood psychopath...
    Part of your local corporation.
    Last edited by 143; December 3rd, 2016 at 03:32 PM

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  4. #4
    Administrator ILLunatic's Avatar
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    Awards 100+ Wins OM HOF SOTW

    Re: Sacred Scriptures Tournament Finals: OG Maestro vs HighEngineChief

    Summer night’s in crumpled dive bars drinking up another lie
    Clutching tight to smokey days yet so surprised they slip away
    Though we just may drift astray the tide will drag us up from time
    And once again this rum will cry from hollow eyes distilled with pain
    I enjoyed the back and fourth transition from descriptive imagery to vivid emotion
    This inner space that once confined my sins has finally come to light
    Thoughts I cringe confronting twist my stomach as I lick the plate
    Swallow all my pride and then I piss away my fucking life
    Cause when the party’s over I’m still out looking for pills to take
    I appreciate how you maintained your transitions but felt you dropped the ball a bit in your creativity which lost my interest
    To fill this aching hole up starving sober feed me crushed up lines
    Dealt a hand of spades- what else can I do but dig my grave ?
    Pilfered rays of hope from wilting street lamps flicker mustard white
    In gray bastions of moonlight knowing they are but a brilliant fake
    Still sedated spilling drank on my shirt and my tongue is dry
    The Sun will shine again but I can’t sleep and it’s three fifty-eight
    I’m still awake in shuttered fright from a vision that I should die
    And never again see the horizon shine upon the city grey
    Again you lost my interest here but I feel it's because you lost your sense of emotion that you had in the beginning 4 lines. You maintained your descriptive approach but completely lost my attention

    The liver quakes a rotten thunder shocking shutter of the flesh
    Till sudden sweats and shaking gets to be a lot to drop this umbra
    Follows me at ever step, reminds me of the ones I left
    Behind and on the cusp of death to get high in my mamma’s Tundra
    Lost my brother to a needle on the cupboard by my desk
    Where I would write when we were younger and our broken hearts had hunger
    And a lust unquenched to want the very things we should object
    The fever dreams of bloody sex and drugs we both got caught up under
    The ending of this started to draw me back in but the wording was not as fluid as o felt it should have been.
    I look up at God and wonder what pain he might cook up next
    The butcher blessed the body’s serpent bursts out of my mother’s chest
    A glob destruction robbed her of her life God why you take them from us!
    Staring in the mirror all the faces that I loved are dead
    Hung my head and walked alone among the bones of monsters sundered
    Thinking bout my mamma’s Tundra, thinking bout what could have been
    All this time spent looking in only to find more darkness touching
    Everything in sight- Lord, will anything be good again?
    This got rather dark and intriguing. Re referencing the Tundra felt a bit redundant and boring

    For penny dreams I push the pen against the skin of these white pages
    Dig it in and bleed my anguish down where these blue lines run red
    With eyes like two sapphire corpses wet in my imagination
    I can hear their laughter traipsing overtop death’s silent steps
    Such delights have violent ends if only life could be backspaced then
    I’d go home and masturbate then lie in bed in my own mess
    I ain’t got no time to waste with life I’m too infatuated
    With death in the shadows waiting I don’t want to go home yet
    I just want to dance until my toes are red and crack the pavement
    Drink away the past then fade back into black and hold my breath
    I’m going under fast the waves are breaking hard and crashing shapeless
    Foam and weight upon my chest- the empty bottle’s cold caress
    Of olden desk where paper wishes float like ash amidst the wasteland
    Jaundiced cigarette butts that lay in piles of pale faced roaches stretched
    Across the papers I wrote poems about those days when hope made sense
    Staring at words like familiar faces- and all the ones I love are dead
    This weirded me out as it got rather strange and awkward in places. Again there was a portion that was referenced again from the previous stanzas that didn't do anything for me. I felt the story could have been more consistent and structured. There were points I would get very interested and then quickly disappointed by a awkward twist. Something that was severely underutilized here was punctuation. It seemed like rhymes were tossed together for the sake of rhyming but completely diminished the fluidity of the story.


    My wife works through cold nights, paid with contract
    So I hire street prostitutes because I crave the contact
    She caught me once but our marriage has made it intact
    It's because of financial stability -- I gave what she lacked
    Nothing special here but I feel it is laying a foundation for what's to come...
    "Goodbye dear",
    With a sad voice, cause she knows it's fake but she's trapped
    She'll leave her print on my face, nothing greater than that
    Then her breath transforms to ghosts as she fades into black
    But I still plot her murder every night as I wave at her back:
    It starts when I awake & react, thinking "maybe I'll snap"
    Taking it back, until I feel temptation's weight on my cap
    I've been known to be unusual, but to me, it is the usual
    I know I'm heartless, I didn't cry at my mother's funeral
    Very fluid, descriptive and intriguing. I wasn't feeling the transforms to ghost as she fades into black. I understand the imagery it's setting but felt it could have been captured better.
    ...but then it all eases away, she leaves & I lay on my bed...
    Until I'm disturbed; once again, I become afraid of my head,
    Because my brain pulses at the beat my neighbor is making
    Which fucks up the little bit of sleep I had, the favor is taken
    Now when I sleep I'll fuckin' dream of duck-taping her dog,
    Erasing her blog, & leaving her dead body raped in the yard
    Or taking her jaw, fuckin' her face until she's praying to God,
    Mouth gaped into awe, as I record with a handful of scorn
    Then? I'll upload into to pornhub.com: title it "amateur porn"
    The progression of violent emotion is obvious but it progressed a little too quickly imo.
    I see life black & white, until someone bleeds -- then it's grey
    ...but then it all eases away, she sleeps & I recede into day
    My alarm clock makes me angry... but waking up, who isn't?
    Except my anger is that I'm still alive, & that's the true difference
    Before coffee, I check my bank's last statement: tax evasion
    Democrats & the IRS belong in sewer pipes where rats are pacing
    Drink coffee, throw on clothes, jump in the car -- cruising in lanes
    Each turn swishes around my jars of preserves (human remains)
    If I visit my mother she just asks "how do you cope with the junk?"
    I got a cayenne pepper red 2017 Ford Fiesta, as dope as they come
    Plus there's skeletons inside & other shit, so I never open my trunk
    With a big ass sticker on the back that says "I voted for Trump!"
    Oddly I found a couple of these lines humorous. Again you maintained fluidity but dropped the ball a couple times with some off the wall twist
    Usually some idiot keeps breaking & I say "damn it, what kinda genius"
    Then I wanna put a gun in his shoulder, or start running him over
    ...but then it all eases away, & I manage to find a thesis:
    Of course he's a bad driver, only a faggot would drive a Prius.
    I park, but before I leave...I pull out the bible; the sacred scripture
    Turn to Revelations 12:8...--
    To use the page to clean up after I masturbate to a naked picture
    I walk through the halls of my company full of sunshine, fun, & joy
    All because I'm thinkin' bout all the people I've made unemployed
    I moved all the work overseas, I got children stuck in the closet
    Wages are pennies on the dollar. & I don't give a fuck, it's a profit
    Not to mention I'll step on anybody to succeed if I fail with a route
    I'm happy that kids have student debt but banks are bailing me out
    To hell with everybody else, I don't belong or work for a nation
    I'm in this for me. "We the People" & my money have no correlation
    Someone like me isn't in jail, or on a prison floor just pacing
    Nor am I being diagnosed & medicated in a psych ward location
    & nor am I a troubled 30-year old son in his mom's horrid basement
    I'm just your friendly neighborhood psychopath...
    Part of your local corporation.
    I felt the ending could have been stamped better than "part of your local corporation" but oddly it worked to a certain extent.


    For me, this was very one sided. OG's story and consistency was far beyond HEC's. OG kept me intrigued throughout the entire piece where as HEC would catch my attention and then leave me hanging a couple lines later.

    Vote - OG


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  5. #5
    Landed Emily's Avatar
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    Re: Sacred Scriptures Tournament Finals: OG Maestro vs HighEngineChief

    Hec

    And once again this rum will cry from hollow eyes distilled with pain
    This inner space that once confined my sins has finally come to light
    Thoughts I cringe confronting twist my stomach as I lick the plate
    Swallow all my pride and then I piss away my fucking life
    Cause when the party’s over I’m still out looking for pills to take
    I liked what you've said here, but its the pace and flow I struggle with a little.
    It's not so much the fact that you're not ending with an end rhyme, the pace just
    isn't what I'm used to from you. An example of that is that is...

    Still sedated spilling drank on my shirt and my tongue is dry
    The Sun will shine again but I can’t sleep and it’s three fifty-eight
    ^^ Although I like what you're saying, I'm losing the stream like effect that makes the whole thing
    mesh in brilliant melody. I'm missing the united song.

    The liver quakes a rotten thunder shocking shutter of the flesh
    My God that's a stunning line. For obvious reasons.

    Till sudden sweats and shaking gets to be a lot to drop this umbra
    Follows me at ever step, reminds me of the ones I left
    Behind and on the cusp of death to get high in my mamma’s Tundra
    Lost my brother to a needle on the cupboard by my desk
    Where I would write when we were younger and our broken hearts had hunger
    And a lust unquenched to want the very things we should object
    The fever dreams of bloody sex and drugs we both got caught up under
    I look up at God and wonder what pain he might cook up next
    The butcher blessed the body’s serpent bursts out of my mother’s chest
    I thought these lines were cool too. Nice beat in the words and descriptions that come to life.
    But I lost my way right after these lines a little bit. My mind tended to drift a bit.
    I lost a bit of interest with this bit and I'm not sure why...

    A glob destruction robbed her of her life God why you take them from us!
    Staring in the mirror all the faces that I loved are dead
    Hung my head and walked alone among the bones of monsters sundered
    Thinking bout my mamma’s Tundra, thinking bout what could have been
    All this time spent looking in only to find more darkness touching
    Everything in sight- Lord, will anything be good again?
    I ain’t got no time to waste with life I’m too infatuated
    With death in the shadows waiting I don’t want to go home yet
    I just want to dance until my toes are red and crack the pavement
    Drink away the past then fade back into black and hold my breath
    I’m going under fast the waves are breaking hard and crashing shapeless
    Foam and weight upon my chest- the empty bottle’s cold caress
    Of olden desk where paper wishes float like ash amidst the wasteland
    Jaundiced cigarette butts that lay in piles of pale faced roaches stretched
    Across the papers I wrote poems about those days when hope made sense
    Staring at words like familiar faces- and all the ones I love are dead
    Ok, I like your outro. I like the sudden ending. I like the way it went out.
    Hec, your piece here, there's parts of it that have me floating and I'm drifting with the imagination
    in the words. And then there's other parts here that flip me back into the moment of me being at work,
    being shifty, trying to feed a piece while pretending to do paper work. That's the best way I can sum it up.
    Some of it let's me dream, and some of it brings me back down to earth and reminds me this is a written piece.
    I wish I was in that dream like state from start to finish though.
    Good job on this. I just wish there was more consistency where the flow was concerned.
    That was my major issue. Flow. And I'm not sure how much of that had to do with a lack of end rhymes and syllables.
    I noticed your internals, some were amazing, but its at the end of some stretched sentences that I felt a jolt.
    Using the word Tundra a couple of times didn't do much for me either. I don't know, just felt a little stale the second time around I guess.
    This was good, but it wasn't a smooth read from top to toe for me, which is what I'm used to from you.

    OG Maestro

    My wife works through cold nights, paid with contract
    So I hire street prostitutes because I crave the contact
    She caught me once but our marriage has made it intact
    It's because of financial stability -- I gave what she lacked
    "Goodbye dear",
    With a sad voice, cause she knows it's fake but she's trapped
    She'll leave her print on my face, nothing greater than that
    Then her breath transforms to ghosts as she fades into black
    But I still plot her murder every night as I wave at her back:
    It starts when I awake & react, thinking "maybe I'll snap"
    Taking it back, until I feel temptation's weight on my cap
    Ok, Professor Frost, the language you used here was very basic, very simple, and I have absolutely no problem with it.
    People bring up simple language like it's a sin, but if done well, I've got no qualms. So it's not the simple language that
    bores me a bit, its the same ol' rhyme poppin so far down this stanza.... contract/contact/intact/lacked/trapped/that/black/back/snap/cap,
    yeah, I picked up on that. In saying that, I still liked what you had to say. I like the subject matter, very interesting to read.

    I've been known to be unusual, but to me, it is the usual
    I know I'm heartless, I didn't cry at my mother's funeral
    ^^ Top lines! There's a whole stack of stuff going on in those two lines. Very well written imo.

    ...but then it all eases away, she leaves & I lay on my bed...
    Until I'm disturbed; once again, I become afraid of my head,
    Because my brain pulses at the beat my neighbor is making
    Which fucks up the little bit of sleep I had, the favor is taken

    ^^ meh', yeah, just not getting much from these lines here.

    Now when I sleep I'll fuckin' dream of duck-taping her dog,
    Erasing her blog, & leaving her dead body raped in the yard
    Or taking her jaw, fuckin' her face until she's praying to God,
    Mouth gaped into awe, as I record with a handful of scorn
    Then? I'll upload into to pornhub.com: title it "amateur porn"
    ^^ Redeemed, with a bit of beautiful violence. Liked the attitude carried through here.
    The fast pace, the raw nerve, the weirdness.

    I see life black & white, until someone bleeds -- then it's grey
    ...but then it all eases away, she sleeps & I recede into day
    Interesting lines here. Especially that '...until someone bleeds -- then it's grey'

    My alarm clock makes me angry... but waking up, who isn't?
    Except my anger is that I'm still alive, & that's the true difference
    But these two...just aren't up to par.

    Before coffee, I check my bank's last statement: tax evasion
    Democrats & the IRS belong in sewer pipes where rats are pacing
    Yep nice one. That's great. Great rhyme, flow, imagery, tone, I like it.

    Each turn swishes around my jars of preserves (human remains)
    If I visit my mother she just asks "how do you cope with the junk?"
    I got a cayenne pepper red 2017 Ford Fiesta, as dope as they come
    Plus there's skeletons inside & other shit, so I never open my trunk
    With a big ass sticker on the back that says "I voted for Trump!"
    What I like about all of this bit are the images that flick through my head, one after another,
    really fast. The full on descriptions that just shake me up and put me in a time zone and make me
    forget I'm reading. Instead, I'm watching some sick movie on a huge screen. That's very cool.

    Usually some idiot keeps breaking & I say "damn it, what kinda genius"
    Then I wanna put a gun in his shoulder, or start running him over
    ...but then it all eases away, & I manage to find a thesis:
    Of course he's a bad driver, only a faggot would drive a Prius.
    But this ^^^ I lost some interest here. The 'managed to find a thesis' line did nothing for me.
    That whole bit didn't do much tbh.

    I park, but before I leave...I pull out the bible; the sacred scripture
    Turn to Revelations 12:8...--
    To use the page to clean up after I masturbate to a naked picture
    I walk through the halls of my company full of sunshine, fun, & joy
    All because I'm thinkin' bout all the people I've made unemployed
    I moved all the work overseas, I got children stuck in the closet
    Wages are pennies on the dollar. & I don't give a fuck, it's a profit
    Not to mention I'll step on anybody to succeed if I fail with a route
    I'm happy that kids have student debt but banks are bailing me out
    To hell with everybody else, I don't belong or work for a nation
    I'm in this for me. "We the People" & my money have no correlation
    Someone like me isn't in jail, or on a prison floor just pacing
    Nor am I being diagnosed & medicated in a psych ward location
    & nor am I a troubled 30-year old son in his mom's horrid basement
    I'm just your friendly neighborhood psychopath...
    Part of your local corporation.
    Nice outro. That last line is cool, but I felt it could have been just a tad stronger.
    I would have liked a bigger bang on the last landing. But as it is, it's still creepy, and holds
    and eerie tone about it, which I love.

    So Professor Frost, you've obviously still got it. But it slides at times, out of that zone you've got happening.
    Just some lines that aren't as strong as the ones I liked. But this is, as you know, just personal preference.
    As a whole, I really liked your piece.
    I thought it was a nice, dark story with twisted imagery and smooth rhymes and a pretty good flow
    all the way through, so based on these thoughts my vote goes to....


    V - OG Maestro
    Last edited by Emily; December 5th, 2016 at 09:48 PM


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  6. #6

    Re: Sacred Scriptures Tournament Finals: OG Maestro vs HighEngineChief

    Summer night’s in crumpled dive bars drinking up another lie
    Clutching tight to smokey days yet so surprised they slip away
    Though we just may drift astray the tide will drag us up from time
    And once again this rum will cry from hollow eyes distilled with pain

    Opening paints a nice picture for me, It's what I liked out of the entire first portion. "hollow eyes distilled with pain" was very nice

    Lost my brother to a needle on the cupboard by my desk
    Where I would write when we were younger and our broken hearts had hunger
    And a lust unquenched to want the very things we should object
    The fever dreams of bloody sex and drugs we both got caught up under

    Very well written, caught my attention instantly


    Such delights have violent ends if only life could be backspaced then

    ^^this line stook on it's own very well

    --------------------------------------------------------------------------------


    My wife works through cold nights, paid with contract
    So I hire street prostitutes because I crave the contact
    She caught me once but our marriage has made it intact
    It's because of financial stability -- I gave what she lacked

    Great opener. Instantly feel exactly what's going on. Maybe just relatable content for me.


    It starts when I awake & react, thinking "maybe I'll snap"
    Taking it back, until I feel temptation's weight on my cap
    I've been known to be unusual, but to me, it is the usual
    I know I'm heartless, I didn't cry at my mother's funeral

    ^the feels.


    My alarm clock makes me angry... but waking up, who isn't?
    Except my anger is that I'm still alive, & that's the true difference
    ^^Nice

    Usually some idiot keeps breaking & I say "damn it, what kinda genius"
    Then I wanna put a gun in his shoulder, or start running him over
    ...but then it all eases away, & I manage to find a thesis:
    Of course he's a bad driver, only a faggot would drive a Prius.

    So much anger


    I walk through the halls of my company full of sunshine, fun, & joy
    All because I'm thinkin' bout all the people I've made unemployed
    I moved all the work overseas, I got children stuck in the closet
    Wages are pennies on the dollar. & I don't give a fuck, it's a profit
    Not to mention I'll step on anybody to succeed if I fail with a route
    I'm happy that kids have student debt but banks are bailing me out
    To hell with everybody else, I don't belong or work for a nation
    I'm in this for me. "We the People" & my money have no correlation
    Someone like me isn't in jail, or on a prison floor just pacing
    Nor am I being diagnosed & medicated in a psych ward location
    & nor am I a troubled 30-year old son in his mom's horrid basement
    I'm just your friendly neighborhood psychopath...

    ^^this entire portion was nice. felt every line


    Part of your local corporation.

    ^this could have been left out, just my opinion




    Overall this match up wasn't close and it's not for HEC lacking, it's that OG delivered a brilliant and well written piece. You could understand what was going on, what had went on, and where we were going throughout and it was filled with tons of emotion (and hate that was passed on through well written words)


    OG ran away with this.
    Best Rookie of Season 13 - Poet's Society

  7. #7
    The Legend KnowP's Avatar
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    Re: Sacred Scriptures Tournament Finals: OG Maestro vs HighEngineChief

    3-0 does this still need votes?

  8. #8
    Administrator ILLunatic's Avatar
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    Re: Sacred Scriptures Tournament Finals: OG Maestro vs HighEngineChief

    Quote Originally Posted by KnowP View Post
    3-0 does this still need votes?
    Vote


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  9. #9
    ::..VOCABULUS..:: 143's Avatar
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    Re: Sacred Scriptures Tournament Finals: OG Maestro vs HighEngineChief

    Battle closed.... OG Maestro wins 3-0


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    Best Topical Writer: 143

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