Quickly before I get back to work:

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Jazzy beats creep up in my seat,

My back arches low as the words start to seep

Straight out my mind, and down through the keys.

Thoughts and feelings show, so slow with the release.

Complementary to all the pain I hide inside,

I'm literally getting paid to rhyme on my boss's time.

Blasting words off of neuron connections,

A convex complexion changes all direction.

But that's what freestyles are for right?

Fleeting moments of feeling, no reason for stage fright.