Freestyle Champion Complete

Yeah this one called two-three-eight, it’s nothing special…number (let’s get this)

This is my own code that’s why

This stuff is telepathy

Rerecord some old shit I think because I got better at my vocal style, man, I swear

That’s a hundred bars I swear to God

Shit is lethal, I swear that’s a hun’ed, man

Yeah thats pretty good

Lets check this out

Man, am I going to have to do this again?


Make sure your vocals is right, m’nugget

Man how am I gonna do this again?

Turn the treb up

Maybe this stuff’s too high, man…

Make sure the vocals dominate

And check it out, check it out, yeah yeah

Whatever, man

How’s that, man?

Feeling the mic at last, man

Hey, thanks, man

Gonna have to do this, man

I don’t wanna do this, man

Shit, come on, man

but battling as a way of avoiding legals

shit is lethal

chess with C starts unintended usually

anything but boards

why do you cry to Charlotte?

Nah…finishing off the album, yo

I did it over two night’s, y’know

“These are cra…” there ya go

So I left you with

“These are crazy crazy crazy (k)nights

Like they’re sort of on the pipe or something

Not saying KISS is on the pipe, like that dude out of Aerosmith

Steve Tyler, and gone to a black man’s regime

I’ll never get truly respected on the microphone

because of my pigment of my…whatever, man



Is this any good, man?

The voices say I don’t get voices

The voices say don’t tell them you have voices

surround sound like really nice environ’

the chevron

but captain actually only middling rank

Liverpool or Saints, England emperor fuckin’ Boltons non-brigand BrigAdier, and

knaves, theses are krazy krazy krazy knights

spray painted plate armour auras of chivalry but it’s so unwanted in the modern age

sir galahad is writing about female chivalry he got dumped for holding a door open for her

messed up on the damsel in distress

whats that compared to a honey trap

basic socially learned instinct to honour the chosen female

compared with smoking hersch and running through fellow sirs like lyrics on last laugh

that, Sir, is mutiny

well mutiny it is

on an aero or wispa let alone a bounty

it’s a well known alien sketch

nah i’m pretty serious

but are humans in star trek extra terrestrial?

They only here ‘cos im like on some vulcan ship shit

look up in the sky

BIG lookin lips

flying sauciers and head shop chefs

high but on brain impeders a known impediment to thinking

got me thinking

and you recording again

see, seeing thru my eyes on the ======= is in my eyes a vicarious existence

if u got earth consciousness and people fucking with you means u in deep shit

so make the world a better place

is it the people or the planet making you so miserable?

Terra committed suicide potentially

im not suicidal but i’m committed

from or to an attack to or on the 1983 ammended mental health act

this makes perfect sense

if you want to feel stuff

make me think about you

first adolescence is weird enough

as or to the and but ever even chivalry when it’s then again what but?

As a typical sentence construct

soldering iron in someone elses butt

schinshe the schcottish schitt

Rog’s robotic or retarded, im hungry enough to feel you I need emotion chips

feel that

you’re ill because you’re black

im back in white painted rooms soon str8jacketed trying to prove i’m not

leave on section seventeen left unspen’

leave the sex shit alone get misheard man ghost suddenly makes a lot more sense what


Herbie Hancock freestyle

Punching heads but not of others

Got brain damage and acid causing rain damage

I cry all the time

Several hundreds of times

Seventy Two Thousand Bars but still mentally tough enough to rhyme

The spider is tougher than the rest

You say my worst is better than your best

Only if I really want to make you feel bad

Even worse, hash, rad

Put that in your pipe and smoke it

But fuck this lyrical Snookery

Up there’s a load of Dalek plural up in the sky

Leela still feels me when I close my eyes

Maybe help get a larger monacle for Christmas or maybe Fry

For times we shed rhymes like dimes

My rhymes seem excellent at times

But they say these things like Time-Stealers they’re taking time

Leave you with lines

Forehead full of rhymes you could split but that would be a crime

Rhythm rhymes with Dime’s

Dime dies but his Dean still cries

This is 1985

This is the chorus

Listening to my shit is the only way to make you rawkus

This is the chorus

One time for

This is for the chorus

Brother never lies

You can put the Herbie Hancock shit in on my vocal

Don’t make me take you all into Rhyme Hell again

cos I got titles like in the Yellow Pages

extra terrestrial directories say theyre coming to Earth

And where is it, Roggy?

Blame me in 2015

The white is a minority

And we need to learn how to bow to our Master Queen, Snooks

Outside being criticised to those right in front of me

I wrote all this shit in the Mental Penitentiary

Gotta be good for something, though

Miss Lizzy a bit

Whatever man

This is the same as horsebox only horsebox is back in control

Bet u never heard this over Herbie Hancock


Let me get another file man, seeing as i’m doing this

Chill, man, just chill

Everyone saying how boring It is

Yeah lets check this out man

I dont even wanna do it

nah, not this

yeah lets try this one, man

motherfucker, thats a Hundred Bars

must have had a smoke or something

what beat man?

Over the hundred bars beat

nah, ill never make it, man

man im never gonna do this, man

cmon fuckin…

pull the fuckin lead out, man, let alone whatever, man

jusy… I dont wanna do this and then say…like whatever, man

put it on, man




we all sort of digital, digital sorta song

this is about to be a Hundred Bars

I dont care what it sounds like, man

turn the treble down a little, man

so just spit the motherfucker and just like whatever, man

I dont feel like doing this

im sniffing more than hasish

im just gonna go over the duh-duh-duh stuff

y;know its like uh…

only its not…


Ill be alright, man

ill probably quit this shit and then get on some other rhyme

Crowd ready and waiting, sir

“Could you make ya’ neurotransmintters hurry up and click?

to reach the decision I already decided on

it’s not about the money, cars, bitches

I don’t need em son I ain’t even got none

but I got certificates to prove i’m not mad

whether this is getting iller

while you’re trying to prove you have the equivalent of Schizophrenia on the Mic

all you prove is that

its not about the love either

I don’t need a crowd an audience to witness

‘just as well’ I hear you say

and I am just as well

26th September you rely on it

just as well as fair in my near infinite wisdom

i’ll say I forgive you man, I probably won’t

to clear it up i’m the one you pray to when you ask for forgiveness

can you forgive this?

In his near-Herculean displays of semi or more than fairness

Minor Deity Shit

I forgive God and get sent for my sins to heaven

not joking where i’m from is like a Hendrix cover

South Saturn Delta, actually i’m from the East, then,

not purple haze more like bluey-green

I see my home planet in dreams

modern concepts that in a competition you’d be willing to wait a couple of minutes for me to remember

your Utopia more like Conetticut

if I give you fifty percent shares in our conversation I lose several billion

why you complainin’?

Aliens hit me off with things you cannot fathom

they write the whole album and tell me to write one

about Neil Armstrong…

he was getting tortured by The Moon

if he was European he would barely have made fuckin’ U.S. News

possessed the spirit of a tiger in Germany

offed one you blame a feline hungry and in captivity

came round to mine for a few hours we watched ESPN

put his legacy on the Presidents team and to my surprise they won

yeah I know but there’s a semi Siberian Cat-Being missing his Son

word gets back to his home planet that’s the case, son

as I dress in leather and get done for self effacement

skin of a cow legacy an chased Jesus off the Cat’ Ground

He didn’t bring any Cider to the Cipher and he got partially eaten by a Mechanical Spider

Spinning Multidimensional Webs attracting ya Time Flies, boy

it don’t when you’re in near solitary for thousands of Centuries

guarded by thousands of sentries

get Sky and get threatened during Prime Time

don’t get at me man, I know this shit don’t rhyme

just ‘cos someone gets robbed by a horse after Half-time equine alcoholic only wanted cheese and wine

Military Personnel getting anxious about Caffeine Levels sayin stuff about dying

Fuck It, i’m callin’ it Freestyle Shit, pop ur shit at a similar level same time without dryin’

battle shit spent I wonder where my anger went

Maybe i’m In Love or something…

I need to be around Women if only for the Discharge and ‘heaven scent’ Yeast Infections

Cobain dies at Twenty-Seven and asks me ‘What’s the difference?’

my voices are telling me to write about chemical influence

the voices are saying i’m so ill my voices tell me I don’t get voices

choices and vices

chances you end up handcuffed to handcuffs handcuffed to something obvious are obvious

just like you I had my chances

the Presidents Wife thinks Sick Spirits come to Earth to be Born, on a side note

traditional truant with a persistent sick note

as I lie in bed til whenever fuckin’ I want

I wonder where it, (the instinct) went

as always I blame the Institution to a certain extent

Life’s an Institution as much as the works of Heidegger or Kant

spirits dig Earth but when they Die they can’t leave it

until I absorb significant amounts of negativity

someone lucky gets the other side of it, I think she’s called Nelly Furtado, Man (!)

positive thoughts get to escape and rejoin the rest of the galaxy

tough time for Homeboy, but the stars are different, ask Brian May

depressives are healers for their soul twin

i’m going negatively off point but I can’t emotionally reciprocate, then again

the Human Voice is so Foreign it causes pain

we’re all Aliens to Aliens but Earth’s not shared, not theirs, its ours

that’s what we think about the Internal Intricacies of the nearest Coloniseable Cluster, Anyhow

So Peace to Tau Ceti, Thank God, Yo, I’m Out.”

Author: Roger Francis AKA Android

Musician, Artist, Writer. Telepath. Psychic. Schizophrenic. Auteur. Cat Lover. Cheap, Seedy Quality. Undiagnosed For The Truest State. Happy. Free. Poor. Weird. Eccentric. Single. R. That’s R Hippy, in a PICU

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