ATT Semi Final: Writer 4 Vs Writer 2 - (Writer 4 Wins by N/S)

Writer 4 vs. Writer 2

Rules
Verses are due Tuesday, July 15th.
Verses are to be sent to Wonderbred or Dave via Private Message.
There are NO EXTENSIONS.
Verses must be 30-40 lines long.
Voting is 3-0 KO or First to 5.
Writer numbers are changed every round.
Check your PM too find which number you are for this round.

Topic

Writer 4

"The Meaning of True Wealth"

"The Evening Prior"

My hearts torn, minds bottled, thoughts worn, rhymes hollow,
Time throttles as I struggle to write, hustle, I guess I've fumbled...
Walls are closing in, the floors slowly been growing thin,
The mortgage blowing in the growing wind and my Lady is going with,
Tired of my rap dreams turned pipe dreams glowing dim,
She lacks sleep her nights seem short with our baby throwing fits....
I step outside to rest my mind, the snow is thick,
Losing everything makes me wish I chose the life of coke and bricks.
I go inside, and my senses cascade back to previous stages,
I see my baby playing while my ladies praying that we make it....

"The Day Of"

I wake and my bed is empty, I shake and my head is sweating,
I scan the fort back and forth, I pray that my head is ready...
Climbing the stairs was a mission, rhyming to flare up my wits and,
Trying to square my conviction, slicing the air with the tension...
The dining room spins, so much riding on who wins,
Inside I'm dying, the truth is, I shouldn't be fighting to do this...
I get in the car, turn the ignition, make my way to the tournament wishing,
My lady wasn't feeling like she was turned to the victim.
The venue was packed with dudes in stacks ready to hit you with raps,
Ten crews in packs, tryna spit through the claps or sit through the laughs.
I've made it through ten rounds, rhymes grazing through dense crowds,
I'm facing who's been crowned tightest emcee in town.
The coin flipped heads, he chose to spit first,
He spoke in quick bursts, he wrote a sick verse,
I clear my throat then spit words, jokes, the hits hurt.
The crowd is dead silent, judges try to name a victor,
They convened in the stages center, called my name, I was claimed the winner.

"The Months Following"

After my battle I was signed to a label,
Rhyming to pay bills, it felt like some kind of a fable.
Eventually I spent more time on the road than with my kid,
I suppose I chose to live with it, putting food on the table was in business.
We were set for life, we bled in fights, this is what we expected, right?
But no one could shed the light on why I felt dead inside...
Because I missed out on how much my baby had grown,
Living off dads flow, but being raised in another mans home...
My lady had enough, eventually we split,
She got into a fulfilling relationship with three kids,
Years passed, the kids all had grown,
I never expected to be so poor and all I had was money,
Until I was left, and all alone...

---------- Post added at 01:45 PM ---------- Previous post was at 01:44 PM ----------

Writer 2 has no showed

---------- Post added at 01:48 PM ---------- Previous post was at 01:45 PM ----------

Upping