In the heart and soul of every human being lives a thinker that yerns to have his/her questions answered. In that same place within every human being lives a dreamer with goals and lifelong desires that a person wish to become or accomplish. I have my own dreams and paths I wish to take and I don't mind helping out as much as I can, if you wish to do the same for me then I am grateful, but if you impede my path, I have to extinguish you immediately. No anger or malice involve, just don't try to stop me from fighting for my dreams because I'm not stopping you.
-
Jinusean
Welcome to my page
Info:
Age: 20
Name: Randy Robertson
Gender: Male
Hometown: Ft. Campbell, KT
State/City I'm in: Baltimore, Maryland
What I do: Rap/writes poems
Tall, about 5`11
I'm mainly a calm person, but confident and down-to-earth as well. I don't judge other people on who they are and how they act, I believe since I'm not perfect, I don't have a right to judge others on their deformaties, but on a side-note, I only judge outcomes on situations. If you was to ask me, how things is going to turn out, I'll tell you the outcome, why it's going to happen, if it's bad, I won't insult you, I'll give you a suggestion in a mature fashion and help out to make it a good outcome. I also seek knowledge for the sake of knowledge, meaning, I don't just learn, know and understand for bragging rights, I just seek the knowledge because it's out there. Basically, I do it for myself and other's around who ask me for help on topics.
I listen to all forms of music that has rhythm to it, whether Hip-hop, R&B, Rock, Classical, Blues or Country, I'd listen to it if it has some rhythm to it and has a topic that's worth listening. Don't get me wrong, I love the music that plays today and I like the fact that everyone can enjoy it without question, just don't ask me, which artists is better cuz I'll keep it neutral and say: "They both are alright..."
The poems that I write is based off of random thoughts, slightly towards a story based scenes which allows you to picture what's happening and etc. With that said, here's some of my poetry, hope ya'll enjoy it.
Lyricism Story (Heart of The City Instrumental)
War scars is a way to show off glory/
watching the scabs of battles develop every morning/
while reflecting on life, honestly it's never blurry/
even if you blind, your eyes still can relate to this story/
Started out young, trying to make it in the cold world/
encounting some sick shit to make the iron stomach erl../
had a hidden talent in a place to make the strong lives shook/
cuz everything around you was broken, but you kept a clean rhymebook/
started off, writing the comfort section of ya own pad/
scribing everything you lost.. and this was the only think you had/
moved on ciphers, talent shows and never took this as a game/
started gaining a bit a fame, you just gave yourself a name/
but critics wasn't the same, some thought that you was garbage/
cuz at the time, you was tying sound your role model in ya droppin's/
proved them all wrong and got a chance to record...
but by then, you couldn't see what was in stored/
Had your crew that was backing ya, but something felt different/
guess they started hate since you was the only one whose gifted/
some turned their back on ya and didn't get mad at the lames, just...
used them as a stepping stone so you can step your game up/
and since they was your connections, sooner or later someone dropped you/
the harsh reality of that is the fact that you felt used/
so cruel... time goes by and suddenly your section starts to trip/
one of them made a record, and what's more, you was dissed/
you searched for the shit, finally copped and I use this term loosely/
you hear it looking for a challenge, and realized... it's trash dookie/
gotta respond back fam, you got a name to uphold/
though they was ya homies, you still gotta remind cold/
just saying... if you take this seriously, have gotta remind strong there/
gotta build ya shit til you make ya rhymes flare/
and for the hate, clowns was more than what you tryna share/
but tell em, "I meet you at the top and we can argue there"/
My Style (Dead President Instrumental)
Freestyling, the phase justifies the means/
so when I spit, I'm giving samples of my style for free/
but when I dream, about 10 years ago, I wasn't the same/
putting my mind in neutral, I driftting off into memory lane/
was I insane? maybe since no one was feeling my dreams/
trying to use credit from another, but ended up paying back for my sprees/
looking for something to eat, trying to make a living to tha game/
finding relief in the end to make up for all of this pain/ (ya feel me?)
stayed mellow all my life, but foes hunger caused me to closed shop/
survival of the fitness, a nice way to say it is called Hip-Hop/
so put a stop, to those who say that hip-hop is dead/
they only say that cuz a record of there's is not ahead/
I felt like Nas when I started, for my sin/
cuz at the time I ask myself, "will there be a time that I'd ever win?"/
though I was 10, every beginner had their strife and stride/
it's when you mature, you would've wished you'd a slow ride/
and with no pride, having it was my biggest and only downfall/
cuz when it broke, I was 3ft when I was really 5ft tall/
and through it all, I switched styles trying to camoflague/
only to fail miseribly, but who'da knew life was this hard?/
I was young dawg, couldn't blame my curiosity if you could/
cuz if you saw a chance like me, you'da took it and you would/
and you should, if you did, you could shut shit down/
so you right, you not a rapper, you a warrior fighting for the Alpha-Crown/
Human Strengths Pt. 1 (EYES)
Take a look in your eyes tell me what you see?
(I see your mind, trying to survive and happy to be alive)
Take a look in your eyes tell me what you believe?
(A dream that I can seek in all, whether girl or guy)
Take a look in your eyes tell me what you seek?
(what we all want in life, death and beyond, PEACE)
Take a look in your eyes tell me what you read?
(A series a guess in subject of others, but truthly ME)
Eyes, the window to the world, that's more than the visual/
for the blind not really blind, they have etherial sight, see spiritual/
vision in a the inter-view, so much weight in humans lie in the eyes/
all in the same in shape, it's our flesh that makes it slanted or wide/
it shows whether we're suprised, happy or even want to cry/
shows the time in on existence and reflect people's lives/
our eyes can reveal our heart, our strengths and our weakness/
eyes can show passion and whether or not we can keep secrets/
or keep speaking in a visionary sense talking by mood waves/
plus our eyes come in assorted colors like Kool-Aid/
and today I'ma keep my eyes Roman(roaming) the world like Trojans/
seeking the beauty of my gift, eyes until my existance clock get frozen/
Gasoline in the Veins
GTX in my heartbeat, veins filled with gasoline/
keep the engine at high speed, but I never kept it clean/
bowles need an oil change seeing it's passed overdue/
and the battery needs juice before I shut down soon/
got a cracked window and the dashboard a bit flimsy/
with the expired license plates and the tail pipes became a chimney/
rear view mirror in a fiend mode, positioned in the hova lean/
and the trunk's always closed, if you know what I mean/
but I'm cool with it cuz I'm the vehicle that never dies/
although my body looks like a Honda, I got the heart of a G5/
love the thrill for of the joy ride, whether local or other providence/
going into demolition derby, looking at dents as an accomplishment/
rough and ready to ride, but the accidents are rarely brutal/
cuz I live the simple life, so I always keep the gear into neutral/
but I know by going rough, I only speed up my awaiting fate/
so I park myself to sleep, count down my toll away date...
' Cliche'd Bulls**t
Mighty hip-hop fallen to a pitiful state/
where fans believe tough talk is something they relate/
more morbid talk leads to reality to deflate/
meaning artists words are like sold out crack pushers, there's no weight/
it's all fake, let alone those who follow this is still sad/
in a era where, Street Cred = Skills, it's that bad/
the genre's been distorted so badly that even the CD has a message that's full of static/
so I have to treat it like the end of Linkin Park, tired of being Numb by it so I'm Breaking The Habit/
hopefully end the hazard, sad if you don't use gun talk you won't get a deal/
whats more sad, if you don't say "gun" you're not considered real/
and even when you say it, the feeble listeners think it's something they can feel/
but once confronted for creditibility, that same "gun" leaves one fate sealed/
and who gets healed? NOONE, mainstreams' a crook, no less/
and listening to everyone music, we all hate Mike Jones but it seems we're following in his footsteps/
and how I guess? repeating the same subject, endlessly to bordom/
to the point, you even have people talking about their so-called street cred on forums/
another words, online, pity fills the soul, witnessing the kids/
trying to Stunt like their Daddy, but don't know who their father is/
living in the Planet of the Apes, with a monkey state of mind/
except, monkey hears, monkey copy leaving morals and inner self blind/
by lies, what's the game been missing? real verses, not a fake image/
real lyric meaning, not jewelry and flashy engine trinkets/
real talent that bring and makes the art feel like home/
not millions battling by copying, not a reenactment of Attack of the Clones/
by hundreds of drones, all dopplegangers living like as a prankster/
a bunch of April Fool's jokes and if you don't laugh they'll try to shank ya/
even getting shot puts you in a status of a G Code stanza/
to the point, people shot themselves, just to go gangsta/
all in all, artifical intelligence is no match for natural stupidity/
so when it comes up, I'll record my thoughts to show the state of music, lyrically/
physically, it's sad, spiritually, no brain power in whatever they write/
making the industry a sold out Blockbuster, we're losing the Passion of Christ/
at least on what they write, better yet what they spit/
but for the record, I'm not fill with anger...
I'm just tired of Cliche'd Bulls**t
Palms
The palm, the epitome of physical ying and yang/
the most benefical aid, but most dangerous weapon known to man/
the hand, the human tree as the fingers are the roots/
the outside molar to the world as the nails can be it's sharpest tooth/
the fist, a rock of human flesh/
a weapon of strength and symbol of Black Power no less/
the homosapien paw by nature, flag of the inner self/
soft meaning good, rough meaning fighter, but all in all representing spiritual wealth/
the fingers, 5 to be exact, 10 together to be dealt/
each one has more meaning than a encyclopedia itself/
the thumb, the symbol of approval or disapproval/
the backbone of the hand and text messaging to making decisions mutral/
the index, the arrow of direction, making things less perplexing/
the human pen with angles that cover section to section/
the middle finger, more than vulger slander of every nation, so forgetful/
it was created to aid in liftings objects causing weight training to be less stressful/
the ring, the root of love/
symbol of marriage once the wedding band engulfs it like a glove/
the pinky, the promise maker...
the most underrated of them all, but just like the middle, it can give an extra grip when it wants to be a savor/
and it's all different shapes and colors, similiar to edible flavor/
so raise the palms up high as it's the most powerful matter, physically made by nature/
' '
Reality
No love for the working body, especially the young adults needs/
and impossible to find the passion when that adult is raising a seed/
obviously, life's no crystal stair, but more like thrones on a hill/
and yeah, we're stacking paper but it's actually our bills/
we appeal to make it easier, not for ourselves but our children/
we strive to be tough in their eyes because showing them our pain would kill them/
try to make it though tough times, can't ' ' ' ' afford food so we steal them/
breaking rules of government Chess, just to make things even/
and begins our grievin, leaving pride behind just to make ends meet/
and you're tired and hungry, but at least your kids is gettin' enough sleep/
and that gives you peace, knowing that they'll see another day/
we may have little, but that ounce really goes a long way/
longing for that happiness to stay, but slowly, problems hit the deck/
knuckleheads rippin' and runnin, ruining the set/
bills overdue, due to, buying food for the family so the day come next/
and the IRS throws some D's on that %#&@$!, where D stands for debt/
and we know this stress, but we keep our head up high/
Placing our spirits to God, keeping our faith alive...
' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' What's a Human?:
A human is a based and defined off taste and opinion/
an in depth volume of thought, creating mental minions/
a human is a flower, born and raised from being a seed/
the opposite of a tree, turning air to carbon to breathe/
a human is a warrior, strong in either intelligence or physical/
gaining strength off practice but still remaining spiritual/
a human is a the most deadiest weapon in the world/
able to create and destory all with just one word/
a human is a embodiment of nutrients, can be bitter or sweet/
but it's to each his or her own, that's why others opposites makes us complete/
a human is both the positive and negative energy/
can be good in some cases but in the same case can be your enemy/
a human can be defined from what a person itself can classify/
so remember, no matter what you been through, you're still human right after you die...
The Human Brain:
I'm the temple with billions of doors, temple of knowledge/
that holds more information then a Two-Way that fits in your pocket/
a library of literature to a tee/
that hungers for information, so it's only right that you feed me/
a dictionary of literary arts/
that never ends but always starts that comes from the heart/
that hard to break apart, that nerve of energy that gives your brain a spark/
I am the fountain of mana in itself, massive intelligence/
that makes the irrelevant so relevant, to level out my element/
the mind is always the egg in the womb and more/
and expression is the sperm, put it together and word is born/
I am the epitome of intellect in a mental conspiracy/
vocabulary creativity and detrimental to those who fail to be smart lyrically/
balanced strength in me physically, but much stronger spiritually/
mentally express perpetual soulful poems so you'll be forever feeling' me/
' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' Life Sentence to Normal Living
One man rises another falls, a balance that's appaulled/
to butter us up thoughout our lives just to see us fall/
spiritually stabbed in the back, without a reason or cause/
thus making us all not virgins, cuz life screwed us all/
we try to ball, but struggles make it hard to dribble/
while trying to stand tall, but our fears makes us little/
not to belittle any one, just speaking on life in general/
as we grow, we become like a letter solving an interval/
it's pitiful, but this is what is considered daily living/
where a man can repent and still be labelled as Unforgiven/
where a girl can give up her body for a few paper stacks/
and go off to college just to judge you while dancing on your lap/
it's a fact, life can be funny yet sad in it's own rift/
a circle where dollars and cents overrun common sense/
as we trip, to know that we trail our existence on sinnin'/
all for one reason, our Life Sentence to Normal Living/
War Pigs..
(READ THE ENTIRE SONG SLOW)
Battle slow cooks the planet...
with motives that's filled with static...
bastards enigma, life loses shine...
in hell, their souls shall dine...
pride, cry-stal-iz-es mind to emeralds...
In God we trust, as devil's our General...
enroll pawns to shape minds, blantently...
drift humans with debted rankings...
Time will strike upon the field-
starting with minds ego-drugged...
neither sides refuse to yield-
'til area is eclipsed with blood...
No point restarting slavery again-
it's the soldiers forced to fight...
but God shall punish them for their sin-
as karma's a %#&@$!, she PMS'es tonight...
The Crusade War, finally ended...
in the soul, torture has embeded...
breaded will, torn between both sides...
in this war, legit suicide...
those died, wrapped in pod...
those alive seek help from God...
words started Crusade to tour...
the same words that started this war...
Dumb Out:
Been writing for 12 years for peers, the curse started at 7/
whether for kicks, for diss, or to uplift ya spirits passed heaven/
at 11, I figured I try something a little bit new/
until racism came to me, making my deep %#&@$! grew/
it's cool, though I really don't mind the pain/
but if I don't do anything quick, then the hell will remain/
the same...so I jumped in battles at age 13/
gained a few friends while the rest wanted to murk me/
but they cant hurt me, cuz I'm considered the best/
above average cuz I'm alot different from the rest/
and I guess that means I'm in my own nature/
but I learned, if I stand out, then the world will hate ya/
and try to deflate ya, then see ya death and applaude/
they say that, and expect me to flip, or even be appauled/(sp)
but that's like finding hay in needles on a spiked wall/
you're only killing real quick trying to find my flaws/
(damn straight, cuz I don't have to the time to follow disrespectful low lifes, knawdamean?)
look here...
my path started out rough but gotten smooth because it was needed/
accepted both the bad and good, so I won't become conceited/
and it'll forever stay that way until I get my buzz heated/
and repped my city, just how my CUZ seeked it/
in the long run, I ended up having a few contenders/
from a wannabe white man to a man whose like a drunk Bender/
from an attention %#&@$! to confused mascot/
it's all the same guy whose bound to get his %#&@$! shot/
and that person is my fears...of my own abilities/
easily spits, but refuse to map the future of my own lryically/
thus making me not taking this seriously, that was holding me back/
it's gotten to the point, peeps here dont even wanna see me rap/
even friends refused to even collab with the compassionate poet/
even wanted to burn me, line it out, take my ashes then smoke it/
but I'm back from the dead, like Tupac, making another album/
a lil different than usual, and I easily astound them/
flow a bit better, while working on the dreaded multis/
then polish it, awaiting to see my hopes gleem/
that's what holds me, back from giving it my all/
I tend to worry about small things to could make my fall/
worrying about nothing, putting my life on paused/
started to think small...even though, I'm tall/
but I broke that habit like a Linkin Park song/
and started to work on my flaws...instead of the barks long/ (B-more slang)
but I like to give props to those that helped me out/
for replenishing my mind when it seemed drought/
Personal Evaluation
My intelligence alone is too irrelevent for my element --
cuz I fail to use common sense, cuz I look at it as an impediment --
so I change my essence, when I assume I learned my lesson --
through various methods and various ways that was directed --
towards me, obviously, I can't slip, I must think logically --
and I probably can live a life higher than proverty --
but they see my color and skills and considered me an oddity --
so I explode, atomically, and make comebacks for those who mock me --
as I call my ideas a philosophy, you see it as environmental mockery --
and wish to throw stone at me, like the outcome of the story, "The Lottery" --
"Story of a Gunman"
The name's Jinusean, age 18, well known to go till nothing's left/
or down to my last breath, just to known as the best/
Instead of goin' for the throat, I'll crush the entire neck/
dismantel the soul and shatter the ribs inside your chest/
with the murder like this, I can see why Death is on my case/
not afraid, so instead of staring him down, I'll spit in his face/
break him down in post-haste, return to making my own cake/
and snatch everyone else's plate...yeah I made my own fate/
but it seems, that my dreams, comes to a halt without warning/
I just recieve some a few griefs, once I woke up one morning/
I see P's and white collars sleeves tryin' to stop my glory/
of a G makin' cheese, contemplating to end my story/
now I got choice, either plead for pity, or get down to the niddy-gritty/
get chopped up like steaks from philly, or die with honor without lookin' silly/
grow strong with a few with me, or feel pain before they even hit me/
they tryin' to come and get me, grab the semi and dump it quickly/
I just dumpped 16, recover quick before the bullets flip me/
duck behind the table, run if I'm able before they kill me/
hide the label and erase the fables so if I live, God can heal me/
Duck thru the back, commense the attack, leave no prisoners/
unleash the gat, leave em flat, nickname myself the deminisher/
pull it til it snap, duck before I get clap I'll see the minister/
but it's a proven fact when you're strapped, you've become more sinister/
no lookin' back, K.O'ed a few macks, now to start the finisher/
(Gun Shot)
I've been hit.....over bull%#&@$! that just occurred.../
I'm laying on my chest, vision gettin' blurry, earth movin' slowly/
wanna die with eyes open, cuz if there's a heaven, I want someone to show me/
5....I'm losing feeling in body, like my soul is tipsy/
4....I hope I live, cuz I want revenge for that nigga that flipped me/
3....vision gettin more blurry, I hear the Angel Song/
2....instead of being scared, I feel at peace since I haven't felt like this in so long/
1....this is it...no more being classified as a minority, more peace within the tide/
0...., .......................................I've just died/
Questions of life:
8 million stories, opens 8 million questions/
that burns essense or foundation of life's lessons/
questions that the mind tends to come about when bored/
the other type, spirit type deep within the soul's core/
yet I ask,
Was we born with a name, or given one to end confusion?/
why strive to survive as a minority, but always end up losing?/
what is an minority? is there suppose to be a majority?/
was there really life before us, or someone's making up a story?/
why do we learn life's lesson when we're closing in on death?/
what's the purpose of meaning when there is no meaning left?/
why wait til the last minute to do something that'll help us all?/
why do people of a higher class want to see our downfall?/
Is it possible that we can find a president that tells the truth?/
How can be built up from something that has little use?/
why do we skip a bill to drown ourselves in shiny %#&@$!?/
why do guy fight over a girl when she sucked the block's dick?/
why girls call each other %#&@$!es and have not problem with it.../
but when someone say "fix", they quick to pull out the clips?/
since when do people fight over colors, some blue and red flags?/
speaking of which, why we kill, then cry when we see our families in body bags?/
since when name calling became such an olympic sport, or something less funny?/
how we took: "an eye for an eye" for dismembering people for money?/
How we go from break dancing to dances that does use legs?/
how can people blow money, then go to the government and beg?/
Can IRS really stand for Irritating Redneck %#&@$!head?/
cuz if another one threatens me again, I'ma beat him til he's dead!/
why telemarketers call me while I'm eatting dinner?/
Since when people can die from inhaling paint thinner?/
How can we became free in a land when we all was born in fees?/
Why Do I Ask These Questions When Noone Will Answer Them For Me?/
This next one is VERY old, I wrote this when I was only 7..hope you'll enjoy this as well
Anger from the Heart:
Are we absent-minded,
or are we just blinded,
or are we waiting for the day we can relax or retire,
cuz the world is coming to the end,
yet where did the %#&@$! begin,
better yet, where can we all repent for our sin,
cuz its over the capacity,
since we cant count it exactly,
and since when the priest commited such acts of blasphemy?
but actually, I'm waiting for this new world to come,
sone people is living it, some is just waiting for it to be done,
other wont admit for the lives they shun,
and others rather fight as an "Army of One",
as the only son, I'm taking this life slowly,
sick derange and insane, not even a cage can hold me,
so I ask God, what good life can you possibly show me,
cuz at the rate we going, theres alot of people thats gunna be lonely,
I am past overdue for the tears I shear,
for my cousin's sake, he wish for this %#&@$! to disappear,
and when I die, Ima find my place for my soul to appear,
and if I go to hell, Satan will begin to know the meaning of fear
