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Pelicaine_Einhander
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read my profile
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Name: Herb
Location: Pelicainopolis, Greenland
Birthday: 11/29/1986
Gender: Male
Interests: Games, music and words.....
Expertise: Two of my three interests.......
Occupation: Manufacturing/production
Industry: Art
Message: message me
AIM:  pelicaine
Member Since:
11/2/2004
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 Yoh! It's been over seven months........Wow. I have the worse sense of time. Read, browse, comment, but enjoi!
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It’s been a while since I gave ya’ll a rhyme
I wanna get back to the days where I wordplay all the time
I’ve been makin’ beats but rhyme has always been on my mind
I know I have some fans out there, and ya’ll have been oh, so kind
Thanks for showin’ love to ya favorite pelican
Ya’ll know I got the tight flow so ya’ll best tell a friend
That I can get around English a little bit
I’m the wrong bird in the Metroplex to fiddle with
Words are my hobby, beats are what I like
I’m tryna get far, not stay on the ground like a busted kite
I’m tryna get mine, ‘cuz another brother might
Take what I deserve and get way above my height
To where it’s too late to catch up with my competitor
Ain’t tryna get served like a tennis ball hit by Federer
You know I’m a winner with the champion flow
You better wear Timbos if you don’t want me to stamp on your toes
Vaya con Dios! | | | | |
| Yoh! I got more freestyle filler for ya'll to read...........look around and enjoi!
I advise you not to press your luck
My rhymes are explosive, like they self-destruct
My rhymes are the best for you buck
Plus they are ahead of yours, yours got left in the dust
Best for your buck? Psyche. You know my rhymes F-R-double E
I got an all-star recipe to get my cheddar cheese
I want my cheese, I ain’t lactose intolerant
I bring the funk like a gross kinda stench
You can’t catch up, so I know your name ain’t Heinz
I’m come to get dough, don’t say that change ain’t mine
I want my much deserved fame I’m after
For about as much boos you get, my amount’s the same in laughter
‘Cuz they laughin’ at you, and your weak flow
You should be slapped so hard, that your cheeks glow
Wherever you bought your style, I hope you kept the receipt, though
‘Cuz I’m not feelin’ you, you’re a weak joke
You need to revise your rough draft, and delete all irrelevance
Smarts is a must-have, so speak with intelligence
I’m tight with English like I hang with Noah Webster
See me on the street corner with a sign: “Will flow for cheddar.”
And spit gems like I eat sapphires
And when I start recording, I won’t shaft buyers
One of the hottest fellas with a pen or a cappella
Tryna get cheese with my flow, I want my mozzarella
Vaya con Dios!
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| Yoh! More filler before I come with the real thriller. So basically this times 1.5.
Read, browse, comment, enjoi and vaya con Dios!
My rhymes are quite the experience like Final Fantasy
You’ll find ya hands burnt if ya try to handle me
If you try to scandal me, that’s a stupid option
You need to flow easy like a smooth concoction
Pelicaine! won’t quit, won’t slip, won’t trip
You’re a liar if you say that my flow don’t rip
Rip like unwanted pages in your diary
I’m here to spread heat, not to start rage in the society
Don’t lie to me, but you diggin’ my flow
I won’t lie to you, I’m spittin’ for dough
You should witness my growth, and say you knew me as a sprout
And when he tried to stack his bucks and not snoozin’ on the couch
In the future, the game will belong to me
Your rhymes are dull, mine lookin’ like chrome to me
Spiffy and shiny, not busy? Come fine me
The dude with flow fresh like sniffin’ a pine tree
Think I’m kiddin’, then fine G. State your opinion
But my rhymes slap so hard, your whole face gon’ be mission
And leave the rest with a giant red mark
My rhymes fly, yours look like a dead lark
I’m hungry for mine like an un-fed shark
And I don’t need to make a mark on the street cred chart
Just be myself, and you can see my wealth
Grow high, and watch a lot of bums gon’ need my help
I’ll contribute, but if you fakin’ that you need some, you gon’ get boot
If you think you can lie to me and think you gon’ get loot
Stand back, lemme spell it out in bland facts
Don’t fake to get yours, or you’ll get your face crammed back
By my lyrics that I script out, and when Pelicaine! ship out
I’ll be the judge, jury, executioner, and coroner up in this house
Open you up and do the autopsy
And see inside to recognize that you all copy
Vaya con Dios!
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| Yoh! I know that I neglect this site for the most part. I apologize. But I got some freestyle filler to tide you over with 'til I get my act together.
Read, browse, absorb, comment, and enjoi.
Pelicaine! be the great rhyme stylist
I’ll have ya’ll all clamorin’ “Put him on the top of my list!”
’Cuz I do it like this, I’m so righteous
Hit you hard like a nightstick, if you swing you might miss
You could throw a punch at me and you’d missed the mark
I’ll eat you punks for lunch, ‘cuz you don’t spit this harsh
I spit hard like I’m hockin’ a loogie
You annoy me like talkin’ through movies
Shut ya trap up, watch them eat this rap up
Got my future rapped up, so my paper stack up
But for now, my oldest green pal usually Jackson
But soon as my paper grow up, I’mma view ya reaction
I know you gon’ be askin’ for some petty change
And I’ll look at you like what you just said was strange
I might hook you up with a couple of pennies
And walk away chucklin’ while you’re shook up with envy
You could tell me your biography, I don’t want your life story
’Cuz if it’s real lame, I’mma look at you quite dorky
’Cuz my dough for family, friends, and those who need it
But I know some new cousins gon’ rush me like I’mma secrete it
Just watch me capitalize this game like my name is Moscow
And you’ll be mesmerized, lookin’ like a lame who’s lost now
But I keep and Hammond handy or a Rand McNally
So I can spot you fakers who say they my man or pally
Yep, I keep atlases, and stay with a compass
You get dismissed like weak actresses, ‘cuz I come with promptness
’Cuz I’m better with the rhymes, more clever with my lines
And tell that fella that he lyin’ if he say that I’m not flyin’
That’s a fallacy, you know I fly higher than this galaxy
Disagree, I’ll accuse you of havin’ too many daiquiris
Lookin’ for tight lines, ask for me, haters get in back of me
’Cuz you know your crap is weak, and ya’ll know my raps is sweet
Vaya con Dios!
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| Yoh! I got more [einhander] goody-goodness. (read: mediocrity)
I have placed that big plan for [einhander] aside. It will be done, though. No one visits. That's what I get for not updating in eight months, huh?
Read, browse, comment, enjoi, and vaya con Dios.
This golden pendant
Is just a remnant
Of a love that vanished
And where heartache descended
A birthday gift to her
Same day they separated
She asks God
To take the pain and displace it
I gotta go for it
I can’t chicken out
I gotta go through with it
Can’t take a different route
But I’m scared and nervous
I need some courage to purchase
It’s my time to shine
Either that or close curtains
From here on out
I’m a changed person
I took my wicked ways
Ripped them up and burned them
The smoke is now vapors
The earth absorbs the ashes
I must pray to my Maker
To keep Satan’s lures unattractive
Disgusted with the subject
Of religion and belief
She doesn’t know what to trust
Which higher power to seek
She just trusts in herself
Nothing more, nothing less
No sin to bind her
She lives life with no regrets
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