Rhyme Jokes

What do you call a rapper who can’t rhyme?

A SPEECH IMPEDIMENT

What’s a rapper’s favorite computer key?

The space bar... it lets them space out their RHYMES

Why was the rapper bad at basketball?

He could only dribble RHYMES

This joke includes potentially sensitive content.

What do you get when you cross a rapper with a snowman?

FROSTY RHYMES

What is an orange? World's only not rhyming thing.Hehhhehehehehhe

I remember u. U used to be an ash I would live to roast u more, but my mom said to not burn trash

Why did the rapper go to the dentist?

To fix his FLOW

How do rappers stay organized?

With RHYME BOOKS instead of PLANNERS

What's a rapper's favorite type of FOOTWEAR?

Rhyme Boots

Why did the ghost become a rapper?

Because he had some UNEARTHLY flow

This joke includes potentially sensitive content.

Why did the rapper go to the beach? (Part 2) To drop some TIGHT RHYMES

In the realm of words, I shall embark, To craft a verse, both bold and stark, Thomas Bulgin, a name that ignites, A tale of length and moist delights.

Free from the chains of structured rhyme, I wander through this realm, sublime, Thomas Bulgin, a phrase so strange, Evoking thoughts that rearrange.

Long, it stretches, like a winding road, Leading us to depths, yet to be bestowed, In syllables, it dances and it plays, A journey we embark, in myriad ways.

Moist, a word that teems with life, A touch of nature, amidst the strife, It whispers of raindrops on tender leaves, Of dew-kissed petals and gentle heaves.

Thomas Bulgin, a phrase so surreal, Unleashing emotions, that time cannot seal, In this short verse, I strive to convey, A glimpse of what these words might say.

So let us ponder, the mystery untold, Of Thomas Bulgin, both long and bold, For in the realm of poetry's sweet embrace, Even the unusual finds its rightful place.

In the realm of words, where thoughts take flight, A curious tale, strange as the night, Of Alex Fisher, with love so bizarre, For random Hitler lemons, bizarre but bizarre.

Free Verse, they say, this poem shall be, Unrestrained, unrhymed, flowing and free, Yet how to capture this perplexing love, For lemons and Hitler, soaring above?

Alex Fisher, a soul with peculiar taste, Finds joy in lemons with a sour embrace, And Hitler, a name that evokes dark pain, Inexplicably entwined, like wind and rain.

Randomness, the thread that weaves this tale, No logic, no reason, no rhyme to prevail, For who could fathom this peculiar love, Of lemons and Hitler, below and above?

Yet in the realm of words, where all is allowed, We explore the uncharted, the strange and the proud, And though this poem may bewilder and confuse, Let it remind us, acceptance we must choose.

For love knows no boundaries, no norms to abide, It transcends our expectations, with no need to hide, So let us embrace the quirks that make us unique, For in the tapestry of life, we find what we seek.

So here's to Alex Fisher, with love all their own, May they find happiness, wherever they've flown, In lemons and Hitler, a world so absurd, May their love be a reminder, that love has no words.