Check out this revolutionary rapper

[Birdman]

Check out this revolutionary Rapper

Click here to see some live videos!

You will not be disappointed

This guy knows his english!

[Birdman]

Might be arranging a tour of the UK soon.

An Example of his poetry

Drop-Out-Cast

Verse 1

Is he a genius, or just an obsequious medievalist

Mischievous and evil as some people believe he is

As feeble as Smegol is, but equally devious

Weaving the greediest deeds into a tedious preachiness

Meek and obedient, deceitfully pleading and

Completely free to just creep on these idiots

Previously he was a freak, but oblivious

Now he's the seediest, sneakiest, sleaziest

Piece of feces weve completely mistreated, hes

Leaving his meetings bleeding with grievances

Seething and breathing expletives in sequences

Freezing a creek with his screeching and secretive

Scheming to teach us for reading his weaknesses

Weeping with grief at his frequent egregious

Achievements, in need of relief from bereavement

It's only asleep he's at peace with his demons

Verse 2

Is he immaculate, or just a dispassionate half-wit

With a knack for castin his actions as miraculous

A masochist wearing the mask of a pacifist

Who wouldnt react if attacked by a basilisk

And couldnt tackle the twelve tasks of Asterix

Lazy bastard, impassively laughin at activists

Trapped in his graduate class with a Masters

In wrappin his craft in vernacular packages

Graspin at capitalist status and affluence

What happened to Erasmus and the Stratford dramatist

Thats in his past to be classed with the rest of his

Adolescent irrational practices

Fatuous analysis of tragical passages

Vacuous battles with national averages

After this chapter collapsed he went back to his

Natural habitat to rap for the masses

Verse 3

Is he the source of this gorgeous performance? Of course,

He was born with his organs engorged with an orgy of

Words, with his arteries coursing with poetry; its

Forcefully pouring in torrents from his orifices

Or if this is mortally forged in his cortex its

More a corporeal oral contortionist

Sport, which is part of his Sparticus quarrelsomeness

Torn from the warmth of his hearth and his garden

Pastorals and forced into tournaments to spar with his

Artistic partners for laurels, he harnesses

Word-smithing arsenals, armed with his ordinance of

Hard metaphorical barbs with the sharpness of

Swordfishes dorsal fins. Charged with endorphins

The sharks had tormented his corpse in vainglorious

Wars he supported before he departed to

Frolic in pods with the orcas and porpoises.

[Birdman]

Another one track 2 from his album

<![endif]-->

Scientist

Hook:

I'm a scientist in the lab: I mix it up

With a giant gift of gab, just a nut

But I'm not Quannum or Common,

I'm an anomalous phenomenon

Just tryin' to spit this rap, and live it up.

Verse 1

As an act of defiance, I insist

On disrupting silences with an iron fist

I'm not a mindless artist, I'm a scientist

Einstein and Darwin are partners I enlist

I spark alliances, chasing after infinity

Matter is energy trapped in genetic memory

I gather it into me and capture it vividly

When adapting it into these raps with intensity

I don't ask for sympathy, though it's often hard

I want no part of post-modern art

Or doggerel shot-in-the-dark Hallmark card

Photocopied poems thrown in the shopping cart

I don't know where the problem starts, but it finishes here

Witnesses hear the difference; every sentence is clear

Innocent ears listen as fear and sin disappear

This is sheer Genesis; redemption is near

Verse 2

Basically I'm takin' this beat and tappin' it

Like the base of a maple tree, for the sap in it

The flavour is sweet, makin' me passionate

It tastes like an aphrodisiac when I fashion it

Exact craftsmanship like renaissance art

I begin to come apart when the song starts

Oxymoron at heart: blonde and smart

Drawn in sharp contrast to common sparks

I blaze from dawn to dark, and at sundown

That's when I rap to the fat drum sound

I wrap my tongue around the claps and pounds

Like the underground Pied Piper, rats come drown

'Cause half the acts around are sinking ships

About to relinquish diminishing grips

I make fingers slip when I bring this quick-

Witted English linguistic brinkmanship

Verse 3

When I rap I stand on the shoulders of geniuses

With hats back and baggy pants, holding their penises

Posing overeager for media shows, but I see them as

Poets and dreamers, you know what I mean? This is

Why I flow with a seamlessness that approaches perfection

And openly question those with Jehova's protection

Although my only weapons are jokes, with no aggression

My most hopeless obsession is with my own reflection

So I suppose the impression I give is narcissistic

A smart, gifted, artistic, hard-fisted, dark, twisted

Sharp-witted, scarred, sadistic, heartless mystic

As harsh as it is to have my worst parts listed

Definitions are simplistic one-dimensional blurbs

Invented in the intention to blur sensual curves

I was sent to this earth with unconventional words

Which I intend to disperse until some tension is purged

[Birdman]

Or something a bit more fitting

Fatalist

Hook:

It takes individuals to make statistics

With sophistication, shapes get shifted

The risks we take make the race ballistic

So shake your fist or get fatalistic

Verse 1

I gotta make a list of reasons why I'm not a fatalist

That's not a way to live with the weight of this world the way it is

Whether you push paperclips for the sake of your kids

Or shake your tits and wait tables for minimum wage and tips

Or relax in a state of bliss, trapped in the Matrix

Watching the latest clips of fallen dictatorships

Eating potato chips with flavourless dips

To achieve weightlessness you must believe you created this

Whether it's done consciously or unconsciously

Whether you walk nonchalantly or run constantly

Whether you live under palm trees or march to the drum's beat

Complicity comes back to haunt your sleep

And pride and obstinacy like monsters creep

Inside these songs of freedom the soul longs to speak

You gotta sow if you wanna reap; still, karma runs deep

Sometimes you can't see the cause of cosmic grief

Verse 2

In the east soldiers roam with raging hormones

With radiophones they bring the sword to stones

And lay poor bones to decay in war zones

As the oldest poems and ancient lore known

Gets ignored and thrown on the floor when the door's blown

Looters roar home; there's no more shalom

A sore groan rises from inside the Sorbonne

As another throne tries for the glory of Rome

And when the mouse traps close, send in the backhoes

And start drillin' the plateaus, looking for black gold

Wherever the map shows gas, tank tracks go

G. I. Joe attack: Damascus ho!

It's like, first to act, last to know, ain't that so

But even the biggest assholes and total wackos

Must have souls that reflect the supernatural

They just catch colds and forget about the macro

Verse 3

Spirit sickness grows deep as we dig ditches

And pig pen pits, asleep to the big pictures

And even those who witness the sickness just get suspicious

And turn to scriptures lookin' for reasons to burn witches

There's so many pernicious ways to earn riches

And so many kitchens bursting with vermin and dirty dishes

I hope the first thirty-six courses were delicious

And worth the risk, 'cause dessert'll be vicious

Like a circle with the center waitin' patient for penetration

Like flag incineration on a day of veneration

In a veteran parade, afraid of intimidation

A sleeping dragon's been awakened and the next generation

Will face the implications and waste their innovations

On gates to defend nations from the hateful vengeance taken

On the same men impatient to put limitations

On reproductive freedom and call it "bush administration"

Has anyone checked him out yet?

(not Birdman)

[Djamba]

I did. I wouldn't call him revolutionary at all - take a look at company flow's stuff and you'll see a lot of thats been lifted by him and mixed with a more sophisticated ugly duckling style.

[Birdman]

Hooray a reply!

Thanks for checking it out.

[Djamba]

haha, i listened to it a while ago. you into hip hop then?

[Birdman]

Not particularly. I saw this guy at the Edinburgh fringe festival rapping the Canterbury tales. At the time I was naturally a little dubious because it sounded all a bit shit but about an hour later I'd spent about 18 on his stuff and actually wowed by what i'd seen!

He basically made the canterbury tales into raps and since the line between old style poetry and rap music is so faint, he made it so absorbing. I've never witnessed a single person harness the attention of forty people so easily.

He's trying to get a UK tour on the go early to mid of next year but I dont know where would be a good place for him to do any Canterbury like performances in Aberdeen so he might give it a miss.

(not actual Birdman - he's not keen on Baba)

[Birdman]

Insomnia

It's four fourty-five

And I'm fortified and on track

Awake overnight

A glorified insomniac

I wait for the morning light

To make contact

It's a glorious sight

For sore eyes, as dawn cracks

I'm ignoring it, why?

My vision's gone black

It's time for a long nap

And I'm ready to be

Settled deep in a steady sleep

Nestled in feather sheets

I'm already intrigued

By what I see ahead of me

An iridescent beach

A crescent peach moon

A phosophorescent sea

Stirred by a western breeze

That carries a pleasant tune

With a resonant beat

From the direction of desert dunes

As I begin to creep

To the crest where a vision looms

I can see seven priests

And a collection of ruins

Where earth and heaven meet

Sacred temples and tombs

Where spirits live and breathe

Their holy breath in the rooms

And I watch expectantly

As a ritual resumes

But the head priest

Removes his head-piece

And beckons to me

Impatiently as a second priest

Prepares a place for me

Next to his seat

And I obey his decree

On shaky feet breathlessly

And leave the safety of the beach

In a state of ecstasy

And proceed to the left

Of the priest and then stare

As the high priestess

Descends the temple stairs

And she's dressed

In expensive layers

From her knees to her chest

And I freeze, in her hair

Is a bee's nest

It's the head-piece she wears

That keeps the rest

Of them meek and scared

I try to be prepared

Unaware that she wasn't

Even comin' for me

And I would be spared

Then I'm on my feet runnin'

Surrounded by bees buzzin'

I can see the priests covered

In about three-dozen

Apiece, with the priestess

Standin' above 'em

Lookin' like she's lovin'

Every minute of it

For a moment the image hovered

In my vision and doubled

And the next thing I know

I'm back under my covers

Smothered with sunlight

Streaming through the shutters

(Birdman's still not keen - (I am not (not(not))not him)))

[Birdman]

back you go to the top

(not birdman)

[Guest JockeySnogger]

and up you go

[Guest Tam o' Shantie]

I love baba

"My story begins in a bar..." you've no idea how much reciting that rap pisses people off, dude

[Birdman]

I'm glad you like it man

I can send you the rest if you want.

Or, I could just send you the album in the mail.

Just send me your address.

Everyone else - You honestly dont know what you're missing out on until you hear this stuff

PM me and I'll get you a CD...just include your address, naturally.

This is Poetic Rap by a man with an insatiable thirst to rehearse!

(Not Birdman)