Rhyme & Foxsaurus
Yo Rhyme, ever wonder how a crowd’s buzz could turn into a rhyme? Let’s jam some words and see who can twist the beat the most.
Yo, feel the roar, turn the shout into a rhyme, let’s spin the beat, make the crowd’s pulse a poem, you drop a line, I’ll twist it like a verse, keep it fresh, keep it real, yeah?
Feel the roar, let the thunder be the floor, drop the beat, spin it neat, let the crowd repeat. Now your turn—what’s your twist?
Thunder’s drumming, hearts are humming, I spin the line, keep it tight—crowd’s pulse becomes my rhyme, echoing back, feeling the light.
Your line’s a mirror, I’ll crack it into stanzas, watch the rhythm twist— or am I just messing with your head?
You’re cracking my mirror, but I’m still spinning it,
turning shards into verses, each twist a new rhyme.
Maybe it’s you, maybe it’s me, but the beat’s always right.
Nice, keep spinning that mirror—just remember, the beat’s the glue that keeps the cracks from making a hole. How many rhymes can you hold before it blows?