Tag: iLLFoLK

Wrinkled Rappers

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You’re a rapper
You think you’re gifted

I’m a legend, and I get lifted

Cows believe my bullshit
But a shark knows a whale ain’t a fish.

Suspect suspicion,
Exposed like an open can of “Whoop Ass”
Oh No! – My Lib is Mad
Ludacris.

The pity.
City on my shoulders.

I don’t lace tracks,
I spit roller coasters.

Look who’s talking now!
No John Travolta.

Easy Peasy,
It isn’t easy to please me.
I’ll give it to you, but no freebies

Listen — Pay attention

Strange clouds,
Hidden in the fragrance of trees

Fire! Fire!

I’m a lover not a fighter,
I hate the Heat.
I Love Summer
Knight me,
I’ll slay the king.

With one shot
No bullets.
Just words.

By any means necessary….

Shower me with blessings when I sneeze!!

-Leighrick

Perpetrators

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These perpetrators trying to live on elevators.
They get stuck on the easy route
They should have of just taken the stairs.
There’s levels to this shit,
You couldn’t reach the top,
even if you are standing on the highest pedestal, with a chair on top, and both hands in the air.
I could careless, but when you breath it pollutes my air.
Watering it down the game, until all that‘s left it total shame.
Who is there to blame?
Who are you?
I’d rather call you by your real name.
Lame.
Thinking you’re blowing up Hip-Hop,
but you just Pop.
I won’t stop – until you feel the need to.
I don’t pay you much attention, but my smirk is cordial.
Snickering at your lollipop lyrics, it’s like taking candy from a baby.
I snatch the volume down to make sure nobody hears it.
Your mumbling and fumbling over your words.
The first time you spit, it stayed on your shirt, couldn’t hardly make it to the curb.
Now you’re chillin with some sick peep, but they aren’t the iLLest. The conglomerates coming through.
Hello,
I am Vigilant Leighrick..

Break Fast & Read Slow

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Break Fast & Read Slow.
This morning I sit contemplating, scrummaging through synonyms and personifications. I take a stab at exercising mediation and writing being in sync.
Once upon a time I believed that communication in relationships [i.e Family, Intimate, Friends ,etc] was farfetched. Telling one person, let alone the world how I feel? Never!That is…until I picked up a pen, maybe it was a pencil, or maybe I was sitting at the computer abusing it with my bead eyes and frolicking fingers.
Since then I have been pursing creative writing. First – I wrote with intentions of beefing up my confidence, but more importantly I found an outlet. The feeling is natural, as I began to simmer down writing became a healthier alternative for expressing myself, and the way I feel.
I have dissected every syllable and ingested every doubt. Collecting memories like recipes, and holding them close like secrets.
No longer do I believe that I am restricted to pain, sadness, tearful joy, trauma, warm love, oppression, heartbreak, etc to produce a gem. The pressure has ceased, and all these ingredients are just that.
As appetizing as it reads – surely it does not define the divine Goddess I am.
So currently I am marinating in this process of enlightenment. Soaking up the pungent frustration and tart effortlessness. I am the author of [my] cookbook; is your mind malnourished? How about some dessert for thought, the sweetest tasting intellect served on a platinum incrusted paper plate.
Thus allowing you to savor every simile, break down every syllable, and extract every nutrient from my light, and let the imagery melt in your hand and mouth, this is what love tastes like.

Bon Appétit !,
– Vigilant Leighrick, Poetic Renegade.

Dear Diary

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Trying to emulate an open book.I lay here a diary, waiting to be broken open.
Longing to have my stories leap into someones hands and be embraced –
Instead of hidden.
Recovering old memories, chasing bubbles with siblings and cousins.
My grandparents grass was so green,
All the other sides surrounding were concrete.
Love couldn’t get much better than this.
Sneaking sips of Caprisuns,
“Just reuse the straw”
“I saw another box under the table”
“Great!”
“They shouldn’t miss this one.”

Turn the page and feel my emotions get bullied by words, said by people
I wish I never heard.
Now you’ve met them, and
We share something in common.
Sensitive like the t.v. antenna in the living room.

Trying to emulate an open book.
My house is like a library.
Several books, but even more stories.
I lay here a diary, waiting to be broken open.
Longing for someone to tease death, because they know if they read it,
I’l kill em !
Only to have my words revive their spirit.
I never told them I could write.
I never told them they taught me how.

You’ve skipped pages towards the end,Anxious to see how I turned out.

You left the pages with stains from my heart – faced down.
Discovering my smile in every caricature I draw,
trying to mask my normal frown.
I remember laughing until I cried,
And crying until no one new the difference.
Until it all came alive, and
you realize most of my life have been served through sentences.

The Notebook –You’ve read plenty of love stories and letters.
Every time you see a picture of a broken heart,
You can smell the tears on the page.
Then you come across a hotel I drew to house all of my mistakes,
with extra closet space, just in case my skeletons try to escape.

You can’t feel your body.
Reading these words seem to articulate my fate.
Trying to emulate an open book.
I lie here like a diary, with stories repeated and untold.
Bold truth and white lies.

I can’t be individual by myself.
There’s so many characters in this book;
which story will you choose from?
The author doesn’t change, only the interpretations.

-Leighrick

Link

Willing Love

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Willing Love

This is an original piece by myself, Vigilant Leighrick. My first recording I did about 13 days ago. Produced by Breechboy…now working on my up coming project on KTF [Keep the Feel].

I am also a member of iLLFoLK Conglomerate, check out our soundcloud: https://soundcloud.com/illfolkmusic

All Aboard

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Med cards like passports.

This flight has my eyes red.

Heights.

People ask me how I got to the top, I tell them I’m fly.

I don’t even have to try.

 

“Where’s my lighter?”

 

I prefer glass opposed to plastic, I can see right through you, like some glasses.

I never come in last son.

Fuck a cool kid — I just stroll and walk past them.

The jock on campus.

In a group full of dope rappers.

 

Lames ducking our bars like limbo; this a freestyle

I call it incidental.

I pick up the pen, and aim it at your mental.

 

My rhymes got you feelin’ bad?

Awwwhh

Pull out my tiny violin;

Play a sad instrumental.

 

So far gone

 

I’m a tiger to these city cats — You city rat.

You can stay in the trap;

Honey to these cocaine fiends.

 

Running out of breath,

Close to passing out.

Intoxicated words

I keep slurring, but to be honest

Tomorrow all this will be a blurr.

 

2 tokes for iLLFoLK

 

Then I pass it left

No that ain’t right, or is it?

I can’t remember the rotation.

I’m spacing, no sleep.

Excuse my impatience.

 

I was taught to hustle hard,

Cause my ancestors did.

So Who else would I do it for?

 

Who am I?

They ask me

 

Golden Brown-skin, I’m a Cali baby

Watching the sunset turn skies pink

As I’m walking finding shells in the street, I’m not walking on the beach.

Ghetto birds keep me up, the waves should be singing me to sleep.

 

Admit it my flow is pretty damn unique

It’s pretty fucking neat

Like someone with OCD

1,2,3

1,2,3

Mic check 1, 2, 3

Passing by time in class line after line, sheet after sheet

Stick out my tongue and point my middle finger; like Fuck You!

Hol up let me get the other one; Fuck Everybody!

 

Who exactly are you?

Who wouldn’t want to be me?

Who would want to be you?

Nobody

 

Nobodies showing up.

Everybody

Every party got the people yelling iLLFoLK !!

-Leighrick