Rapping Novels & Stories

I continued rapping and added a little of my own version, something along the lines of doing body shots with Brad Pitt. He rolled his eyes. "Jeez, will you stop rapping that crap?" he muttered, still holding my waist, making sure he had a tight hold on it. My arm was slung over Mike's neck for dear life and at the drunken state that I am in, I was pass piss drunk and could barely even stand straight. If anything, from the look on Mike's face right now, his scowl was directed to my rapping, which sounded like a cat being drowned.

Rocky scoffed Frankie started playing a rapping beat with his mouth and immediately Trent started a freestyle rap while the boys dance crazily 🎶Yo,Back in the day I was a lunch line rapper, 🎶After that I guess I was a punch line rapper, 🎶Then I got saved and sometime after, Ya boy came back as a frontline rapper. 🎶And when I say the frontlines, that's not a frontline, I'm out here preachin' Christ on the frontlines, And no it ain't about rockin' stages, 🎶'Cause some of my engagements are out on the pavements, yeah. I'm out to take the bible, create disciples, Who make disciples, disciple-cycles, 🎶That's why I want the beats to knock

I checked, you been don faint my guy. K.O! Green suit, gold shoes—i shine, Ahmed raps and raps some more. His is God given. I swear, i can't get over the way he smoothens pidgin into rap lyrics, how he makes it sound natural, as if rap were a Nigerian thing from the onset. He doesn't even need to battle to win. He's an entertainer like that. He finishes and they shout "Aaaaaaaaa". It's nearly enough to revive me or rather, "re-vibe"me.

I ask. “You said you don't like rap songs.” “So apart from rap, you don't have anything good.” “Rap is good.” I fake a gag and he beats my mouth. I scowl and then cross my eyes. He laughs and rests his head on mine. ... Words/phrases and their meanings: * That one dey vex you eh — it annoys you a lot

"A little taller than I was before, with a voice a little more solid, all of this to go back to you, now I’ll spread wide a map called you, my rehab..." "Young Master! Young Master!!....." "Tsk." Si Ning turned sharply to the door, annoyed that his rap was interrupted when it took him so long to learn the rap verse, and for once in his lifetime, he was about to rap is so smoothly without reading the lyrics on his phone. Just as expected Ah Dai rushed in breathing hard and Si Ning wanted to ask why he rushed in and interrupted his song only to see Ah Dai shocked expression.

the gray beard man ordered his men. "Who are you to think I would let them take me?" "Call me Raphael" he said smiling broadly. "Too bad Raphael, I didn't come this far to have myself go with you" She spat and got up. His men tried to grab her but she swiftly pushed them off kicking then straight in their cheek bones. She yanked one of them and in an instant she had torn his spinal cord out of his body. "I see you are no ordinary lady" The man said "what are you?"

What he doesn't like is to do nothing, as he used to do in the past. Tapping his fingers on the steering wheel he listened to phonk. The sensation he feels when listening to this rhythm is unique, it is a kind of mix between electronic and R&B maybe, it is not even possible to say what exactly it is. Linna likes the vibe it gives, calm and fun, a rhythm that is impossible to stand still. It is what gives her a little extra pep in the morning, and just being able to listen to it in her car makes her even happier.

I was right; hip-hop was just limiting her voice. “Jump it like I sing it. Jump it like I sing it. Jump it, jump it like I sing it,” another one of our group members sang as we danced. "Yeah, jump it, yeah, sing it, yeah, dance it; we turn around and we bounce it; I like it; you like it. What are we going to do when the drama’s on the spot? What are we going to do when they turn all of the lights on and we jump up to the nines?” Nina came with her wonderful rapping talent.

Her voice carries a playful confidence, and as she finishes, she glances between us with hopeful, eager eyes, searching for validation. I tilt my head, chewing on the tip of my pen absentmindedly. “So you’re going for rap?” I ask, more as an observation than a question. Zalie’s group doesn’t release many hip-hop tracks, though Lyla and Ivanna excel at the genre. Still, whenever they’ve dipped into it, the results have been wildly successful—chart-topping, even. “If that’s the case, maybe tighten the last line—‘level up your game if you tryna swipe me’—to keep the rhythm punchy. Maybe… ‘level up if you really wanna swipe me.’”