| You been impacted and attacked with a mixture of aromatic paragraphs |
| Graphed with acidic cataclysmic mathematical acrobatics |
| My mind confines plenty rhymes |
| Slice your stomach with the mic twenty times, leaving lines on your torso that |
| look like mini blinds |
| And people could peep through and view your vital organs anytime |
| A psychic told me I won’t come into my prime till I’m 129 |
| I’ll lesson ya |
| Body mass from flesh into a watery mist and spray you out of can like air |
| freshener |
| I won’t have any problems stopping ya |
| The one man mafia that’s chopping ya till I filet ya like tilapia |
| My Glock spits neuro toxic hot bricks |
| My synopsis make rocks split, block hits from unseen entities that I box with |
| I hold a key like locksmiths, got X-ray optics, grew thoughts I get |
| Sit outside my knowledge pit cause they could not fit |
| My virus too strong to call off |
| I could stand on one foot on a building ledge in a strong wind and couldn’t |
| fall off |
| I spark the seeds that are hard to read |
| I’m from a larger creed a martian breed that turns cautious offers to |
| quadriplegs |
| This rap cannibal that wrap vandals |
| Like snakes on the Animal Channel that traps mammals in the annals of my neck |
| panel |
| The dichotomy, my word logic locks you |
| And stops you from breathing out until the death angel adopts you |
| You wanna have it, take a stab at it |
| I’m avid about smashing your cabbage into specks of forensic lab fabric |
| Impostors copy my logic, my body and knowledge |
| To your body’s composite from solid to liquid to gas and back to solid |
| An apocalyptic flame rips |
| From my lips at insane clips, that strips fragmented micro grains and brain |
| chips |
| I distribute facts amongst ya |
| The chiropractor that replaced needles with multiple axe in your back for |
| acupuncture |
| The inhabitant of the labyrinth Babylon |
| Paramount paragon that runs relay marathons with 90-pound batons |
| And I spark suns 'cause I been hotter |
| The Bin Laden sin plotter that’ll beat your ghost out of you like a pinata |
| My information, level contagious |
| Blazing abrasion that had you phased with radiation like a chemo patient |
| When average rappers scavenge passages from my tablets |
| I ravage anatomy savage and won’t even let the maggots have it |
| Don’t try to draft the chapter after me |
| You’ll think you levitating but you’ll be actually hanging ropeless defying |
| gravity |
| The word merchant that squirts serpents with a flow pump |
| Lyrically I’m the opposite of a hurt workman 'cause I get’s no comp |
| Your verses are worthless |
| My thirst is strong enough to coax Earth’s water from the Earth’s inner core up |
| to it’s surface |
| I’ll leave a generation birthless |
| K rehearses in other dimensions while being nourished by the milk of shirtless |
| nurses |
| You quoting stuff that ain’t potent enough |
| I seen a ghost of the rhyme you wrote leaving out of your rap folder and |
| floating up |
| Like Ike I beat and bruise the mic if I use it right |
| You gon lose tonight and every pen you choose’ll go on strike and refuse to |
| write |
| I’m overseen by wicked guardians |
| Which enter me after every performance and make me slaughter part of the |
| audience |
| I never finish a battle, one paragraph they blew |
| Just like a phone number, most rappers dash halfway through |
| I designed the rhyme, I wish that I could have read at first |
| I didn’t get a chance, people were screaming and giving me dap before I said |
| the verse |
| I’ll speak to your brain and tremble it |
| The skim of it I’ll dismember it, blow up the frame and let a baby reassemble it |
| Skills that are doping 'em with opium |
| The trophy I’m accepting while my victims head lay hopelessly on a podium |
| Go on say it dog say it, you cried huh |
| (nah), you so mad you cried right you did |
| You did mayn, you cried |
| Shit, you were mad then a motherfucker |
| You cried nigga, you cried |
| What did you do, to deserve that shit |