Yo. This is MC Kona up in dis piece. Know what I'm sayin', loc? All my peeps be chillin with the homies. Yaheardme!
(translated: Good evening. Tis I, Kona. All of my acquaintances are busy at the moment. So here's a 'freestyle' that I will write for you....now.)

lemme git a beat!
(Boom chboom boom chboom boom chboom...)
If I'm here and near
you better open your ear.
cuz my lyrical aspirations
will make you run in fear.
my style is superb,
sharp as a knife.
If you dis MC Kona, I may take your life. (probably not though)
The prophets..they fear me,
won't step near me.
Cuz I'm wiser than the sages,
timeless, through the ages.
and they know,
that I won't hesitate to blow,
their phony show
to the wind.
expose them for what they are;
men that bend
the truth for their ends.
So I chill,
with my will,
and lend a helping hand
to my main man
Avveroes
cuz he'll batter us
with a crushing overhand blow.
Not even the infernals can kill him
cuz they just don't know'
the ends
of his power
powerful mighty, but delicate like a flower.
a rose
he knows
he could kill your whole family.
Save the dog for later,

and feed it to his granny.
But he's a gentleman,
not a rental man.
And Seasone knows this.
So she swoons in her hut,
and doesn't fear his fist.
She feels her vials,
and curses at the miles
between her
and her love,
Avveroes,
her gentle dove.
What would happen if someone would succeed?
With whom would Seasone choose to breed?
Not Epicurus, so old and crusty.
maybe a guard from thera,
on their road that's dusty.
Or perhaps,
just maybe
to make a womans baby,
She'd seek divine intervention,
to whom would she mention
her plight.
her flight.
her man is dead,
and she's putting up a fight.
Sarapis of course,
cuz he's all powerful.
and just one dagger full
of his power and might,
would make seasones worries
get up and take flight.
Omnipotent Logos,
would help seasone.
So she wouldn't be so heartbroken,
and move her home.
We could still get vials,
because she'd have her baby.
And everyone'd be happy,
maybe, just maybe.

<ponder> well that was long. It kind of deteriorated, but <shrug> whatever.
Kona-----><-----

Penned by my hand on the 21st of Scarlatan, in the year 247 AF.