Which's all I need for me to step into your subconscious slate... contemplate a world of my own, n' push your boundaries beyond its gate... Heartless - nothing platonic, mate... sort of demonic, more than iconic, traits of hip hop pull your monitor from it's sardonic state..

I key-style - which is flattering, I suppose.
But it's certainly not the best I can do...
every conceptual move is more a less perplexing to whomever
reads the text, and it's true...
twist your neck, till you flesh's askew
n' resembles the Exorcist, too. I spit transgression, the few
that see it, need the rest of the view
to come to the conclusion that it's not an illusion..
You see? I plot it, a lot like...the thought's amusing
so jot it in use a melodic fusion of patterns drawn...
to time segments n' periodical movements..
Word...
Got em' crumbling, dog ...n' some will applaud...
the rest will hate, designate shots that penetrate
thoughts faster than a millisecond of conscious...
Which is all I need for me to step into your subconscious slate...
contemplate a world of my own, n' push your boundaries beyond its gate...
Heartless - nothing platonic, mate...
sort of demonic, more than iconic, traits of hip hop pull your monitor from it's sardonic state..
Yeah, fuck it. I'm keying.
But feel like I'm dreaming in time, can't see what my mind's weaving..
teetering the scales of your logic, how's our product even?
It's not... you're mistaken here...I'm awaken, but bare naked, yeah...
rear-naked choke-hold the heir, make it clear...
Placing my stakes in here like the market, I'm taking shares...
Bone hoe's (Bono's) like Chaz - yeah, I think it's Cher...
I think it's fair enough... reflecting modern concepts, putting the mirrors up..
Make it abundantly clear, to queers, when I hear yah stuff...
Mixed emotions involved, I don't think you're dope here it all...
Can't aFord to lose my Focus at all...
Social media's grown to evolve, n' y'all are just another post on the wall...
I'm a dirt bag, a bag of dirt. You faggots hurt.
Mad... seeing the plague at work - you live in the 90's there, with your dragon shirt.
My style's a product of transcending. Plans ending to begin
of thinking outside of the box, as soon as I see the side's unlocked.
Outside of Zion, the lion that watches the herd running like it's a Fox..
My writing is shots of lightning, brightening watts in my idea bulb..
Feeding off of the pre-evolved sub species, y'all...
Because I can, exposing the upcoming plan... fuck a fan.
Got drive, tie up your seat-buckle band...
Feeling tired n' weary... comparing William Paley's design with science and theory...