Marshall

Mic in my palm, venomous charm, it’s alarming,

Marshall in the shadows, plot thick as a yarn spin,

Stories in the gutters, where the stars ain't sparklin’,

Tongue sharp, carving bars, never disarming.

Marshall in the mirror, shadowboxing with the fears,

Ego screaming loud, but the truth is what appears,

Echoes in the alley, chasing dreams through the years,

Voice cut like razors, slicing doubt into tears.

Ciphers in the basement, heat rise from the pavement,

Every rhyme placement like a sniper's engagement,

Foes try to mimic, but they fumble the arrangement,

Flow tighter than a grip, never loose in amazement.

Staring at the skyline, hunger in the pupil,

Every rhyme brutal, fuel burning, it’s crucial,

Scratching on the vinyl, raw cuts so truthful,

Marshall’s in the house, and the vibe’s undisputable.

Crowd going frantic, syllables elastic,

Marshall’s on the mic, turn static to fantastic,

Pen moving magic, tragic to bombastic,

Bars like a cannon blast, far from sarcastic.

Marshall in the mirror, shadowboxing with the fears,

Ego screaming loud, but the truth is what appears,

Echoes in the alley, chasing dreams through the years,

Voice cut like razors, slicing doubt into tears.