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Old Lore
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Remixed from the original, Very very political, my personal favorite.
raven raven new thinking
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Single Rap Artist using new and old school beats, prolific writing, and all types of tempo.
Hey, My name is Ian, AKA Rave'n. This is a page containing all of my raps, available free, for streaming and downloading. I like to think of my raps as cognitive street style. I try to convey meaning in many of them, and attempt to do more than settle for the base of a rhyme. I search for sense, you could say.
Song Info
Charts
Peak #17,359
Peak in subgenre #7,852
Author
Rave'n
Rights
Ian J. Milheim
Uploaded
March 05, 2005
Track Files
MP3
MP3 5.2 MB 128 kbps 0:00
Lyrics
You all thought I was boring, Maybe I was ignoring the facts, Or maybe you thought the facts would lack Your interest, turn your back, Find my act Like a tack in a wall to fall, rhymes too dull, keep being honest, on earth, What’s this rap worth, a good beat, Put to waste, Placed in the hands of the worst of taste, Not the best, but still great when killing, a can of mace In your eyes, ouch it burns; let pain fly like a raven Who be craving it, ready to step on the pave-ment, Can we save it, its too late; bird is gone, unlike his song, It’ll live on and on, and on and on and on, Till no one else can hear it, till everyone be wrong. Tell a tale as old as long, While around his friends, among The passed away, past was yesterday, Today over, you say? Futures skipping, heading my way Dripping, as they all say, There’s no more, like old lore, Once it’s over, its opens up a sore Fronts to discover shoot it overboard Underlord, the great one, Rave’n, in the ward, no fun, Spilling to his mad rhythm, splicing sword, These are just some Of the things that stop him from being young, Give him pain in the lung, a gorge His mind shot through his tongue, all aboard The reactionary glee to a low fee for his songs, Download em’ all night long, no charge A rap sailing barge, no dock, Hope to break the lock And no crew, Captain does all they do. But free? I don’t know, I see no key, We should all leave him to grieve them, The lost freedom fighters, a piece of metal, constructed with some pliers, Could they be spliced with some wires? Some way to light some fires in the block right under, Too hard to discover the toxicity, won’t you see? You need more me, so turn on the TV, put on a channel, NBC, state of the union, I’m in the background, The one booming, you’ll make a mound By war, mound of bodies like before in 64, Vietnam began, thousands of kids, died in the sand, America, it was tore through the land, the kids in army, And the kids in band, same ages though, nation made rages flow, There’s no more, like old lore, Once it’s over, it opens up a sore Fronts to discover shoot it overboard Underlord, the great one, Rave’n, in the ward, no fun, Spilling to his mad rhythm, splicing sword, These are just some Of the things that stop him from being young, Give him pain in the lung, a gorge His mind shot through his tongue, all aboard Hurt right from the Alamo, another defeat, When we went to greet the Spanish elite, but remember, We were honest, unlike now, we break a promise To help the world, our blood got curled, greedy, Now we the aftereffects, you and me, view the sea of death, All in the middle east., We have a feast on its oil, Steal all the yeast and make it boil, Boil, tumble and toil, old fashion witchcraft, Same old political raft to float on, freedom was won, But not theirs, not ours? Maybe we should look to the one in charge. The one now living large, a benefit to him, A massacre to win, Over 10,000 deaths, Mr. Religious president, That’s not just a sin, it’s vicious I were you, I’d be begging for redemption, forgiveness It wont happen, was the cost worth the sum? You think about that in your oval office, and hum. There’s no more, like old lore, Once it’s over, it opens up a sore, Fronts to discover shoot it overboard Underlord, the great one, Rave’n, in the ward, no fun, Spilling to his mad rhythm, splicing sword, These are just some Of the things that stop him from being young, Give him pain in the lung, a gorge His mind shot through his tongue, all aboard (2x) (Copyright 2004 Ian James Milheim, AKA: Rave’n)
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