the freesyles, the poems, the words
my meaningful way of expression
my only way to combat oppression
now, here I stand, please hear my confession
i think that i have an artistic erection
the way that i mould my words to perfection
my fingers sway swiftly over top of the keys
the keys are begging, there begging for me
the words are deep inside this brain
they are trying to escape, they're going insane
my words are my way of expression
my only combat to oppression
that was only part of my confession