A pen's made for writing;but, for now, I'll just dump it
To roll with my iPhone; a keypad to thumb with
So all my intentions; intellectual scriptures 
You'll get to see here, it's more detailed than pictures 
No graphics can do this; come through with the passion 
As shown when it's written, hard hitting and bashing 
And time after time, through your minds, you'll replay this
Then huddled in groups, with your troops, you will say this
Over and over, cause you can't deny it
The thrill it reveals on your face; you can't hide it 
James is the flame in your heart of a poet 
And all who will see this, and read this, will know it
The best in the present, that's me; can't you say that
It's only a lie to deny, I'm the greatest
To ever mix words with a blend of pure pleasure
The equal of sex, is my guess, if you measured
The pulse of your soul as you roll through one line
And emerge from the next, in the text I've designed
The rhythm, the concept; the whole enchillada
Nine yards, pulse a foot; for why else would I bother
To keep on expanding; demanding of my mind
To put forth the best, while the rest fall behind