“Time’s Burning”:
Main character named Jake is a young guy whose father is a famous writer and his first novel had been titled “Time’s Burning”. His mother died at a young age, leaving him behind with his father and older brother. Both brothers hate their father, who became alcoholic after his wife died and hated his sons as well. So both boys grew up never reading a single book of their fathers and the older brother makes it as a professional football player and Jake is following in his footsteps as a college player. His older brother shocks the world when he turns down a multi million contract renewal to join the military and fight in the middle east. He becomes MIA and is a POW of terrorists in the middle east as Jake is graduating from his university and the media hype over which professional team he’ll sign with is all over the news when his father dies. Jake is left alone and confused about what to do next in life. He is very good at football as a quarterback, he knows how to read the defense and is a cold, calculating winner but has no real love for the game like his older brother had. He’s not sure if he wants to be a professional football player and the media hype about his older brother, the death of his father, and what Jake himself will do next all over the media just gets to him and he disappears. He is attending a university somewhere on the east coast while he grew up in Oregon, where his father had passed away and he buys a motorcycle and decides to ride it cross country to his father’s funeral, and reads his father’s first novel for the first time in his life and finally begins to feel a connection to his father through the novel. So he travels cross country as the news all across america asks, “Where is Jake ____?” There were rumors that his father had written many other stories that were never published, but they were never found. I’m not sure how to end the story, either Jake arrives at the summer home in Oregon to find his father’s rumored unpublished manuscripts, or he never finds anything and sits at his father’s computer and decides to write his own story, beginning a new life as a writer, I guess. Yeah, I know, the plot with his older brother is unresolved, I don’t know how to deal with that…was thinking about Pat Tillman when I thought it up.
Hmm…got some others, but can’t really recall them right now, lol…

1.Not guilty, he who does not feel me is not real to me
Therefore he doesn’t exist
So poof…vamoose son of a b**ch

2. I told her to drive over in your new whip
Bring some friends you cool with
Imma bring da cool whip
Then I want you to strip
See you is my new chick
So we get our grind on

3. (HINT: a VERY underrated rapper)
have you feeling like a fire hydrant in a room full of dogs
some come come now
get pissed off, s**ted on
tough talk turns to cant we just all get along

4. (my favorite) We make the sky crack, feel the fly track,
get your hands up like a hijack
Fist in the air for (____)keep ‘em there like
Natural mystic or smoke when they spliffs lit
It’s a revolutionary (party), they ask me what I’m writin for
I’m writing to show you what we fightin for

5. It’s just a mask that I got,
So that I can rap and get off my block,
Reminiscing my past when I was a todler,
Sittin in grass and playin with blocks,
Failing my classes now I’m on lockdown,
Now writin and readin alot,
Money and weed is in my shoe box now,
While I’m tryina get me a glock,

[ Chorus ]
My shell, mechanical found ghost
But my ghetto is, animal found toast
My shell, mechanical found ghost
But my ghetto is, animal found toast
My shell, mechanical found ghost
But my ghetto is, animal found toast
Animal found toast… but my ghetto … animal

[ Vordual Megala ]
Life’s ill, some-time’s life might kill
Vordul Mega, five digits grab mic’s mic strike type ill
Is life real? Yo akhi builds
When life feels, like earth don’t spin
Whirlwinds mic blend
Lifes at a stand-still, dangerous cuz man kills
And still, cats visualize life ghetto like
Born mind, sometime these cats see life
Street life incomplete light and be like
I’m a live life after this
One crime, one line from the Mega-la
Blow spine, everyone
Knows the city’s ill, cats kill
Still black man holds nine
Gotta chill star
C-A.L.L.A.H
Be the light of Shamar
Work hard Shamar C-Cipher-A.L.L.A.H
Adapt bars snatch stars
and detach large, channels
But our bar’s handle might break mic’s
Vordul Megala the cannibal ate mic’s
Strive live live fuck five I want a hundred and eight mic’s

“Son, yo son did you see that kid yo?
Yo, yo, Chill out man, chill out.
Yo son did you, yo son he pulled it out…”

Five digits cock biddy nine mili
One floor shine silly
Spun city one verbs hit milly
Little girls spinnin’ curls three sixty
Livin’ in in a world shitty
Yo they spun young earth, now shitty
And while 5-0 might shoot black head
Nigga sorry I sold space suit to crack heads
D.T’s operate mechanically, po-po in slow-mo
Black kids, locked away
Attic key, plus one fourth pound of smoke flow
While, lock head fabian
Achmed Arabian
Layin’ in
Bodeg holdin’ drama a.k
Spoke like as-salaam-a-opaque
Chokin’ vodka mixed with o.j
Wig splits mad quick
Spinnin’ three six oh ways
C 4 blew the door nuber eight
Summer fate tank top wit a knot
Number nine said run the place
Took my girl, stereo, c.d plus the tape
Yo star, don’t wet that
Fucked her face lets stuff the plays
Jet back to santa cruz californ-i-a
Peace to C-God locked up cat born nine ways
Come home mad soon
Live ill, life things just like little black girl got shot
Damn it hurts when they spun earth filled with knots
Gonna make a difference so we get locked
Caught in the shit and losin’ what we got
Come on black
E-qual-E-qual

“Do you know that you’re one of the few pradator species
that preys even on itself?”

[ Vast Air Kramer ]
And if there’s crack in a basement
Crack heads stand adjacent
Anger displacement
Two step arangements
You were a still born baby
Mother didn’t want you, but you were still born
Boy meets world, of course his pops is gone
What you figga
That chalky outline on the ground is a father figure
So he steps to the next stencil, that’s a hustler
Infested with money and diamond cluster
Lets talk in laymen terms
Rotten apples and big worms
Early birds and poachers
New York is evil at it’s core, so those who have more than them
Prepare to be vic-tims
Ate up by vultures, the politicians
In a dog eat dog culture, that’ll sick ‘em
Lack of mineral, we take it personal
A pigeon can’t drop shit if it never flew
Every day is no frills, empty krills
Broken 40 bottles and m.c’s with skills
I rest my head on 115
But miracles only happen on 34th, so I guess life is mean
And death is the median
And purgatory is the mode that we settle in
“No doubt”
I’ve got that Eve’s Bayou sense of touch
So I fought, to touch every hand of a fan to read their thoughts
Battered wives, molested children
Roaches on the floor, rats in the ceiling
Cats walk around New York with two fillin’s
One is in their mouth the other, does the killin’
I’m Vast Air, Kramer, top billin’