intense, batajon sporting, bi***-at-bay-keeping, rap.
MC Poncho is the epitome of underaged, red-afro sporting, whiteboy nerdcore hip-hop rappers who live in San Antonio and also yoyo. None other who fit the descri
I am MC Poncho. I am a whiteboy rapper from San Antonio, Texas, and I have a humongous red afro. I rap. I like to think I rap well. I also like to lie to myself.
Believe it or not, I'm only fourteen years old and I can talk comprehensibly on the internet.
Story behind the song
Album in a day. Word.
Lyrics
I don't ask why life seems to flash by
shot down many times, this is my last try
hold my head up high though I'm told I can't rhyme
cliches cover anything we say from the oppressed to the free days
three ways to live and three ways to die,
takes more and more to leave people impressed
can't decide whose style to rip off from one day to the next
might be eminem one, fiddy sen another, held down fourteen years
then there's my savior, I love her, spooch here with me like a second brother,
so hail to your messiah, the wail of my clessiah, though I'm frail, I'm no liar,
it's going on and on, a global phenomenon, the necronomicon,
monoj shyamalan, the chorus turn it on
AN ALBUM A DAY KEEPS THE BITCHES AT BAY
RUNNING AND RUNNING BUT YOU CAN'T GET AWAY
I've got one day left to get it off my chest
I'm thinking and can't write with a time limit even if I put my mind in it
rhymes infinite, my brilliance can unroll untold millions of combinations
of words, defenestration of the morals of the nation onto the sidewalk below,
my thoughts? dunno what they are, I don't pay attention, did I mention?
total contradictions of past behaviors engulfed in fiction without hope or saviors.
from first to third person in the process of one narrative,
maintain and stay sane, that much is imperative
ionics ironics to be scared to die and scared to live
you say you've found your salvation, but tell me where is it?
AN ALBUM A DAY KEEPS THE BITCHES AT BAY
RUNNING AND RUNNING BUT YOU CAN'T GET AWAY
(I've got one day left to get it off my chest)
the cycle's inescapable and I'm totally incapable of breaking the chain,
9 years of pain in a dicklick school district , but what the heck did put it in perspective
there are magnitudes of measures of how I'm screwed,
to put my problems in order, the body count's low, so say reporters,
from an itch to school to distance to thousands of bodies
makes me feel like a pissant insignificant, it's ungodly
I guess I have it good, at least nobody shot me
I'm fortunate I guess, to live in San Antone as opposed to sierra leone,
conflict diamonds, horrible crime and no one accusing them of abusing them
the worst place in the world, blood curdled, to jump hurdles in a song we're
just trying to get someone to say THERE'S SOMETHING FUCKING WRONG HERE.
