Lynn

Lynn on the block, pen sharp like a dagger,

Wordsmith, weaving spells, swagger gets fatter.

Alphabet assassin, vowels in the chamber,

Consonants clash, turn a crowd into a banger.

She’s the chef, cooking rhymes in the skillet,

Spatula of syllables, flipping till it’s vivid.

City streets echo, her name’s in the rafters,

Every line a chapter, no ghost, she’s the crafter.

Lynn’s on fire, spitting truth in the booth,

Unapologetic, razor sharp with the proof.

Crown her the queen, ain’t no contest to lose,

She’s the muse, breaking all the old rules.

Mic in her palm, it’s a scepter, it glistens,

Every word a weapon, slicing through the distance.

No whispers, her voice cracks the Richter,

Earthquake bars, no frauds in the picture.

She’s the author, painting skies with her prose,

Ink stains the cosmos, galaxies compose.

Pages burn bright, every script she chose,

Lynn’s a wildfire, let the wind expose.

Let the beat ride, let her story take flight,

Dark corners lit up, her truth is the light.

From the underground, she ascends to new heights,

Lynn’s legacy’s written, in the stars every night.