Presidential

Rap Stars

From marble halls where echoes sleep,
A hidden pulse begins to creep.
Not drums of war, but rhythm’s fire,
A golden beat, a lifted wire.

Presidents step from frames of stone,
No longer still, no longer lone.
In modern light they rise anew,
Myth and culture interweave true.

No dusty texts, no frozen pose,
They breathe again as rhythm flows.
History moves, it does not rest —
Each age retells it at its best.

From ancient hymns to vinyl spins,
From painted walls to violins,
Now rap ignites the living thread,
The newest way our past is said.

This isn’t parody or play,
Nor satire cast and thrown away.
This is legacy, redefined,
Where power meets the present mind.

Rap holds the pulse of grit and grace,
A mirror held to every face.
Through rhyme we hear the human core:
The hope, the weight, the will, the war.

So leaders shed their marble skin,
Become the myths they held within.
Archetypes alive and vast,
Where modern fire meets the past.

Through flowing bars and cadence strong,
Old voices step into a song.
The past begins to move in time,
When history remembers rhyme.

Presidential Rap Stars, stand tall,
Myth meets beat, and truth meets all.