10th Grade‎ > ‎Literature‎ > ‎Introduction to Poetry‎ > ‎

A Rap Song by Kathrin Vasquez

Yo, here I go
They call me Kathrin, yo
I wrote ma lyrics down
So I won't curse you all
Without a microphone, in a classroom, yo
I'm flipping, and skipping, and ripping, and dripping
Every single thing that come to ma mind, you know?
That's how we the niggas go, we alternate
We write it, we spit it, we rap it, and we like it
Everything we do is for a goddamn keepsake
That's why when Vera said, said we could draw or rap
The rap I took
So you could fall in my trap
So listen, listen well and mark my words
For this show is going to go against your own accords
Because without a doubt undoubtedly it's gonna get to the lords
There's this guy, there's this dude, called Collins Billy
Sounds like a black nigga, right? But he aint, he's as white and frilly
He wants the students - hyphen - teachers, parents, readers and others
To hold the poems and see through their colours
What he wants, what he needs, where he lives, who he is?!
Nobody knows, nobody cares
Who spares time now-a-days to listen fricking bees?!
When he quotes and says "drop a mouse into a poem"
I quote and say "Hold On, Hold On, Hold On, drop a who into a what?!"
Somebody tell me where this nigga grew at
Dude, the only mouse I know is the computer's mouse.
Then he comes, he returns, this crazy dudio once again
And tells us to implore, explore and deplore a poem's parlor
Man, that sounded French! This rap is getting out of control
I lost the beat, maybe I'll go to water-ski and eat some meat
All the way to the shore I'll wave to this author
And tell him to keep an eye on my alligator
Since I'm leaving to ma crib at nine quarter
I'll be gone, busy, wanted, fricking away and missed
So all that's left to do is to maintain suppressed
Dirbalak going around tying things to chairs
With ropes and hose... Mind your own affairs
'Cuz things like that you can't do without me
For I am the queen of the Torture Army
Especially if it poems that we're beating
For those phenomena are un-understandable when greeting
Collins, ma nigga, Im sorry, yo
But your pals here, these poems you're talking about
They're mad, you know?