Open Mic: The Empty Corridors Of LA (Crimson/Mitch Wagwaan)

Alone with nothing but echoes for company,
longing for noise from somebody,
No tone, its quiter than a dead mime oddly,
and thats not meant as an analogy,
This place use to be vibrant like school halls,
where ppl came n most got mauled,
Silence reigns there's barely a ripple on a pool,
The light fades now darkness rules,

LA resembles a distant galaxy that's dying in the corner of the sky,
I'm persistent and actually ill do my best to restore it, or atleast try,
Even stars in death throes can be revived, so any ideas I will listen,
Cuz John Travolta was brought back from the dead, via Pulp Fiction,
Strangely the reverb of silence has a defining and now familiar ring,
I'm positive the other day I heard a reckoning , as the fat lady sings,
The shattering of silence was profound, even though its a soft pitch,
Promoting violence in ear drums, that's when I reached out to Mitch,
To do a collab of times past, like the golden age thread & reminisce,
I wish I had a Delorean or blades that shoot out when I made a fist,
Back To The Future/Future Past it doesn't matter, as its now we exist,

But.

I remember Trizzy n Arthur tag teamin', then T battling he's own crew,
RKB/Droid got destroyed by that painted ceiling line, art's above you,
SELF's Shanghai NOON, & Black Lives Matter by Doom was scribed,
When Beans was baiting Orion for a tussle on that Alpha Male vibe,
Axy again raping Joffy in text, and that gif RKB went on & supplied,
"One where a bear fuckin' a balloon till it burst gave tears to my eyes" ,
& who ever could forget or misconstrue iLL's victory over Rid's in IC2,
Dizzle/CHAIN beef or should I say stew, Cuba's control over me n you,
These personality clashes, fun they were but let's face it time passes,
Let's re-stoke the ashes, be a core/back bone & bring back the masses,
Don't be a jelly fish today, let's be a animal or mammal with a vertebrae,

Come out and play LA...




Came here as a young teen, big dreams of tearing up the rap scene,
So Keen, injecting all the Open Mic's like a drug fiend.
A Point Blank Exodust of rhymes that are off the CHAIN,
LA's where the 'Word is Born", the calibra of riddems insane,
Now I browse the corridors and only see one post a week,
Spend less time here than it takes to read a line from Neek.
Tongue in cheek, Ain't Manc from the City that dont sleep?
Now I contemplate the good times as I lay here and weep,
Theres a ghostly echo when I speak, Hell No OM's to peep,
There used to be heaps, Damn.. The meanings were deep,
Law's Awetistic, When he came with that fresh shit,
It was Majestic, Pure food for thought as I merrily ingest it,
So ima dust the corridors, Scream till my voice sore,
CRIMSOOON, Let's fuck shit up like the Fart Box Horricore.
Go and Give the Old timers summit worth coming for,
Then Watch em -Que- up for a 'Piece of the pie' Fo' sure.



Edited by Crimson Juice - 16 September 2019 at 1:49pm