Bass Reeves

Yo yo yo, check this out, we got a special treat for y’all here at poetry night,
this evening
This next guy… is about a hundred and fifty something years old,
he goes by the name of Bass Reeves, and he wants to spit a piece for y’all,
tonight, check it out
I wrote songs for days 'til my forearm wouldn’t raise
So I tilted my head and let the words pour onto the page
See you’re a man who stands with no signs of a chance
To see me live, you gotta put me three lifetimes in advance
I got plenty inside me that not many can copy
When I start dropping, the planets stop spinnin' to watch me
I track and catch thieves, I’m Bass Reeves
I laugh when the trash emcees get mad and ask me to leave
I slap most of your team and laugh at the remainder
Put a gallon of liquid in a half gallon container
You sit on a stool, listening to the young gettin' schooled
I’m such a fool, I wrote down an unwritten rule
Then his comprehension quickly underwent double admonishment
I’m comin' with the confidence to put trouble on punishment
When my anger is fed vein, drainage is red
Had more flames in my head than dames in Wilt Chamberlain’s bed
I stay ready to start fights like Fortnight, you barely can talk right
My coldest writings gave a block of ice frostbite
It’ll be a lot of lost life when I chop off mic tops and blow poisonous
thoughts like an exhaust pipe
You’re still wishing my skill slips, but don’t forget that I’m the guy that
apparition kids visit on field trips
I pack a hundred sheets to every new place
But my pages are so sacred I carry each one in a separate suitcase
I salivate to abrogate when in a battle state then travel to my laboratory base
and calculate a atom’s weight
Cubic zirconium couldn’t be phonier than these erroneous ceremonies only a fool
would like
So don’t be a tool to the truth-less 'cause I’ll show you what it produces,
then bury you underneath a wave of ruthless acoustics
You can feel me to prove it so future humans can view the footage
My tongue be moving like the blade spool on a NutriBullet
Facts are refutable, remains are not suitable
A view after removing you from the musical crucible
Section my in fool any for needed is protection, I’m flexin'
So I said that line in the wrong direction
Redeem your sight 'til you finally see the light
My extreme workout routine at night is breaking up hyena fights
I’m still a one man army
My senses so strong, I could be sleeping, feel a strand of lint land on me
Mics choke out in my hand from the clenchin'
When I walk in my room to write, the pen stands at attention
My folder is worse, thirstin' for a prolonged verse
The empty pages fight each other to get wrote on first
I’ve laid in a glass case since grade school, waiting for emcees to be placed
in with me like mice used for snake food
No wonder the thunder is dangerous comin'
I invent words and make up new languages from 'em
My titles are organized and compartmentalized, alphabetized so that they’re
easily identified
My creative inner drive and mental vibe is deep
Not even oxygen’s allowed inside with me when I’m in need of privacy
My hand is robotic so no matching my writing speed
Hired a specialist to come out each night and rewire me
I’m not even in your ride but sitting in the driver’s seat
I write about unborn people’s lives in my diary
Bass Reeves
Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Bass Reeves, give it up for Bass Reeves one time
y’all, c’mon, y’all can do better than that, Bass Reeves everybody, yeah, ay,
he don’t sound like K-Rino to y’all? Maybe it’s just me, whatever