Off the top freestyle over Ludacris’s “Grew up a Screwup”

“Infuago”

Write like I got 4 arms
I’m goro
I’m the type
to rich to afford hoes
ok you gangsta
you let it spray like soul glo
I’ll take my pen to your bullets
sure your shit kill
my mines make me immortal

record all my thoughts like I’m plato
aint never been the type
afraid to let go
even though that shit hurts more than stepping on a lego
my flow is hotter than hot
that shit infuago

my mind bent like its playing limbo
Benjamin button
old and young the way I pimp hoes

always been the type to spot imposters
these fools crooked
like jack sparrow posture
I forget the last time I went to red lobster
no seafood
ok dude
still in a fullhouse
with white girls
sayin how rude

I’m a screw up
but no game here
I’m the opposite of game like bill lambere
you played that?
combat basketball
to enjoy that shit you couldn’t be black at all
feel like chicken licken waitin for the sky to fall
xbox got me focused like some adderall
but my mind still travel like youth league basketball
I’m like quit playin son
and pass it off
now look we have a jump thought
I got a crazy top
like the toupee that trump bought 
all I want is world peace and a kumquat
but you know what?
I’ll settle for a beat drop

2 40’s and a Boombox

~C.B.M 

Occapella #8

I try to be cool hip-hop
but for really yo
watchin yall
is like watchin the ring video

niggas thinks its ok 
to hate like professor snape

10 points from huffle puff
why do I rhyme?
because I fucking love this stuff
this shit wings
it aint never a crutch
and every bar I spit
is penitentiary tough 

the difference between me and you
is like baby powder and cocaine
you so lame
king of the hill
like I sell propane
og
new rules to an old game

I eat all the hate people send at me
then multiply it inside
like parenthesis
burn that shit
and work double steam
yes haters
yall fuel my dreams

niggas don’t see what I mean 
but they get what I say
wicked with words
like Kaiser Souzai

yall like a million in ones
yall don’t count
and my mind never flip
like a pommel horse dismount

its funny how self esteem 
is an afterthought like a foot note
but its one little thing that matters
like a swing vote

my heart hard to find like a pay phone
first thing I do when I find it?
call home 

for real yall can’t see me
but yall easy to watch
like Saturday morning tv

life got a gruesome lesson
like tales from the crypt
and everyone watch what they say
like people reading they lips
if I learned anything 
its probably this
it’s the bitterest pill
that gets swallowed up quick

~C.B.M

Occapella #7

see the world works
in it’s own cluttered way
everything changes so quick
like a family guy cut away

the world is crazy
but i got a good feel
stand still and reflect shit
like links shield

to many fools wanna grow green
like jack and his magic beans
try to chop their stock
the’ll show you what gutter means 
tryin to avoid the purple stuff
like the commercial with sunny d
you know what this brother means

my rhymes overflow
always ready to dump
my dreams long
like ping pong in forrest gump

haters hate
I don’t need to see the proof
but bet they only say my name 3 times max
like beetlejuice

the world got to many labels
like the periodic table
but thoughts are matter
and matter cannot be destroyed or disabled

Not to many good men can handle the truth
thats why they get the iron to their head
like an army salute
I’m just tryin to slide through
like risky business dude
but some people wanna see me mashed
like prison food

crazy brain
no toupe
see the world different
like louis CK

tell government
no more rolling dices
we don’t want a repeat of the mortgage crisis
the new shit student loans
you see the prices
these people can’t understand what life is

won’t stop till the world feelin me
this the beginning of a trilogy
I’m a dog with bark and bite
and I rise at the end
like dark knight 

Occapella #4

I’m livin in my last days like the lease up
it’s cbm
still fresher than a febreeze gust
rhyme tough 
like snapple 
made from the best stuff
think sharp
thoughts squared 
like crew cuts
but they still chopped and screwed up
no gunplay
toys r not us
I don’t wanna grow up
still watch cartoons
and play Xbox
cause I know life ain’t fair 
like a broken down red top
miss the days 
when it was just me and my dog
like cowboy bebop
 

It’s hard to recognize the warning signs
like when you playin’ that game with dots and lines
that’s what my mind looks like when its concocting rhymes
silent but deadly 
like farts and mimes
I’m in a box you can’t see
behind enemy lines
but I just keep stepping like Gregory Hines 

sense make sense 
and dollars lie
that’s why the demand never meets the supply

I’m like a maestro with the pen stroke
still writing poems and deep quotes
sick to death
but this aint the murder that she wrote
I might be that bad guy who becomes a hero
I’m evil
but I’m still that little nigga playin f-zero
I remember when I gave play station the boot
what the fuck is a crash bandicoot
I watched what I ate
and I ran in loops
I’m getting in shape 
so I can man the booth
I spit chop suey
I’m satayin’ the truth 
people scared of a proud black man
displayin’ his roots
I know I’m uncouth
but sometimes I’d rather be dirty than clean 
if you get what I mean
i’m just sayin’
it’s not what it seems
everything fades in the washing machine

~C.B.M 

Slam Poetry ~ Celebrity 

Lime lights
infamy and peddled dreams
what say you
those who try to pedal the sky
vapidness rendered irrelevant
if you can just touch fingers with god
while trying to keep both feet
planted firmly to the ground
are you ready for change?
are you ready to record a revolution?
pucker gold laced kisses
and venomous disses
on some radio approved record track
don’t you understand
there is more than one reason
we’re all buried on our backs 
just leap frog the competition
there’s no such thing as too big for t.v 
life would be a lot easier
for you and me
if we just stopped thinking for a second
and listen
listen to the plastic faces
with ritualized personalities
and pixeled thoughts
listen to the oaken voice
of that announcer
telling us to come on down
and sell our individuality
for a prepackaged
satisfaction guaranteed
american certified
helping of normal 
imbue ourselves with the mundane
because hey!
everyone is doing it
look at us now
we have more Facebook friends
than original thoughts and feelings
more people following
Jamie Foxx on twitter than
who followed Jesus
our future is beneath us
half our country is more concerned about
staying on the right side of the grass
the other is worried about J.lo’s ass
can this really be human?
what about learning
laughing
being
what about
fame
loss
the game
is life really an outtake of Jersey shore?
or is there more?  

*Spoken Word*

-= Street Story =-

hopes, thoughts, and squanderings intersect
like the avenues and boulevards
behold the market place of souls
many have fallen
the new and the old
the brave and the bold
futures bought and sold
for pennies on the dollar
by the intermitingly corrupt
four right turns
the stop signs are eerily abrupt

hate is deft
ambidextrous
its all that’s left 
and always feels right
sinewy shadows creep 
in those inoculating city lights
alcohol; the vaccine
overflows from flasks and canteens

how Romanesque
what a scene 
the escalation of degradation
has never felt so clean
the purifying rush
the profane influx
of dirt caked hands
gripping rusted spray cans
trying as the can
to stay relevant
a steadfast reverent

calloused hands clasped steady 
head dipped in prayer
crying drowned in laughter
sound dripped soothsayers
relaying the youth
a pied piper of sorts
proudly feigning the truth
keeping the eggs or revolution 
scrambled
a divided clan
guns misfiring 
in a no man’s land
where do I stand

in a nation where guns pop
hearts and pipe dreams are stopped
gummed works and blood clots
where is my cathartic genesis
I need it before
my soul is seized
I don’t know what to carry for
outside of my parenthesis
Its all scary
starry
blurry
but I know
that this is just the start 
of this street’s story  

My Hood, My World

~Spoken Word

Chillin on the stoop
midnight pitch black
all of a sudden
braaaaaaaat

Some one screams out
ey nigga hold that
some how the voices
sound coal black

I’m a black man
that aint strapped
I’m trapped
this is what it looks like
when hope collapse

street signs
single file lines
broken parking meter
aint nothing fine

churches and gunshops on every block
like the foolish twins
romulus and reemus
one would hope that one gives hope
but they both give hope
and take it away
its false
we all hold gun powder when we pray
you can make a rosary out of bullet casings
that OG used to say 

blunt ashes to ashes
angel dust to dust
drugs are the material fairy tales
that we seek
but nothing is happily every after
so we live by the
once upon a times
cool cats with green backs
giving each life out of nine
to jump shots
crack rocks and pick up lines

Casanova with a pinch of tybault  
chasing a closeness so far away
rolling the dice playing nice
for a roll in the hay
look at the games people play
there’s no manual to that shit
its rob
jack shit
my hood
the world is going bat shit
I lost that feeling
I’m trying to catch it
and killing is the only thing
that match it

so lost  
churches and gun shops right next to the liqour store
its like paper scissors rock
one lover
one mistress
one paramour 
the glamour
the power
the respect
the violence
the hatred
the neglect
the -
the eagle
the tech
the nooses
around
our necks

my hood
my world
whats next?? 

 ~C.B.M