(THAT DIDN'T RHYME) ... my tactic's sublime... every practical line is practiced, design is mapped between lapses of time...

So fuck lies, I've heard em' all... not ready for more...
I'm the tugboat, steady the core, forever...
exploring the endeavor of war... trying to brush up on the practice...
I'm even strenuous through muscle relaxants, made the hustle a passage
of my life style. Figured a way to trigger my prey...
The small ones have fallen, the image of them is much bigger today...
I denounce them all though, they call me
I'm not ready for that... they front, they can get in the back.
Because I am the emblem... the aesthetics of rap...
Fix me up; need no medics for that...
place the head on the wall... then smash it to pieces with a medicine ball...
Pretty menacing, y'all... put a net up... cause the thread's been mauled...
Over the line, playing tennis and all...
Executing wit' swiftness... yes, swiftness... so, he's the fucking quickest...
let's get up to business... snuffing bitches...
Whoever acts tough can witness...
the skull indent from the knuckle imprints... ha... (why's he acting bad for?)
*I don't know, dear*...
smh... that was so queer...
Any complaints for my verse? it can go here...
Cause I got a drive for it, and I don't steer...
Just a cold beer... or a lager, I just don't care!
(THAT DIDN'T RHYME) ... my tactic's sublime...
every practical line is practiced, design is mapped between lapses of time...
I just... think of a line, and then this ink will just find
a solitude in the recesses of thought for me to speak this shit...
Ahhh....

neutral... but that's the lies we weave... the ones we tell our selves... inside our cells... The Devil we know, see more than unbridled hell...

Yeah, my sanity's harbored with fugitive thoughts...
moving through blocks, fidgeting...
using music to jot, the unit I've concluded will rock..
The masses that be. Jurassic, I see...
the findings of my brothers... dead, couldn't last on the scene...
The fantastic diseased clashes we weave...
work the hands like Clock work, living in
second class citizen conditions, spin...
the world around... watching the Ballerina of human nature twirl around...
I'm hurling now... exercising my rights
the lights from the hermit grounds... flash excessively
with every word that's bound - ed
to the latches of thought... the camera essence,
Lyrics capture a shot... translucent master of concocting
visible laughter or shock... through rhythmic patterns displayed
upon the axis I walk... my mind's a Black board...
the recesses of memory grasping the chalk... I fastened
every masculine clot of energy and drastically rock...
the visual plane these imbecile's claim...
Ambidextrous - every direction is written the same...
a fossilized logic, still missing it's aim...
It's lost. What you wish to regain? Is the five senses, which is
a shame... I dismiss it, the mystical flame
restricts it, until it trickles... in pain...
I'm a ... graduate of the astral plane synapses...
The same man who walks out of the outer boundaries
of society, defining thee' sanctity to which civilization tries to be...
neutral... but that's the lies we weave...
the ones we tell our selves... inside our cells...
The Devil we know, see more than unbridled hell...
Rage expired... engage the fire of the man that they claim
as an unnamed Messiah... then denounce their faith to wane desire...

I'd rather not conform my integrity generates such a high proclamation the angel's hear when it resonates

They know I go straight... hold weight
industry standard, call it a co. fate
from the gloves to the shiny...
metal toe plate.. box of tools
plastic container, full of locks n' screws
something apparent - cuss what I got from school's
Nothing but a paper sayin' I graduated
without a major, ain't it
something? Yeah... I didn't think so either
I'm not one to complain? who I'm am I kidding?
I LOVE to complain... I do it so much its FUCKING insane!...
But I got stuff, that'd probably self destruct if contained -
so I say it instead of keeping it.. going so
fucking deep I'm counting sheep in it.. fallen asleep in it
EVEN This weekend FITS the bill.. prescription pills in unmarked containers with Vodka shots..
Fucking Smirnoff's & Woody's - the others cost a lot.
I'm trying save now.. fuck spending an arm in a leg
or living life like I was Dharma and Greg
This isn't fox, bud.. the top hip hop stud ready to go stray
Running with the flock while it's coming forward? bro, no way...
I'd rather not conform my integrity generates
such a high proclamation the angel's hear when it resonates
the podium of heavens gates..
That's not to get preachy n' all..
But I don't need for yall to see me as tall..

All I see is these cocky chicks walking around like pompous pricks That hope to sell out tickets, but are sell out tickets, like box office flicks...

I think that there's distinctive hope, not to be found...
And only the self-proclaimed kings here are rocking the crown...
But if you think about Big Poppa and Pac with their sound?
And see the industry's pop, you would evaluate how popular that topic's now..
I mean, people are just talkative now... they thought they're profound
Their concepts are contexts around their overconfidence, which is a big
consequence since if you actually look through drops
It's the same shit. The mainstream's main theme's
been used plenty...
So now I'm here sitting with their written like, "Really?"
"That's what you got from this?" All I see is the opposite...
All I see is these cocky chicks walking around like pompous pricks
That hope to sell out tickets, but are sell out tickets, like box office flicks...
It isn't even exactly about keeping the people that actually
rip it's perception of you seemingly happy, it's about...
Coming with the original shit, and spitting out... clever quips...
But ever since we've had to make a bravado that motto's become semblance....
Yeah, so what can be done?
Seems like nothing, because
this hustle's become the main staple to work, and it's profit, right?
In the 90's, the transition to East Coast thought was like..
The Holy Grail, now it's about the South dropping nice...

All doughy-eyed... whole game mobilized... Started From The Bottom... but it's no problem to grow in size...

It's a comedy act, we're following, black...
All fiction, they can't acknowledge the 'fact'...
Ringing it up for a living, but 'calling' us whack?
I mean, where do they got off doing so?
In the fast lane, all of em' moving slow...
Keeping it secret, speeches you should know...
That's the brunt of it all... throw that adhesive until it's stuck to the wall...
And all the them can suck on my balls... completely remove the nut from the drawers...
Tired of the hustle, it's all... a mirage
a tall facade... shaking my head at it as I'm nodding off...
Shaking my head with enough force
to wake up the dead... kneading a change, when they're taking my 'bread'... (HANH)
All doughy-eyed... whole game mobilized...
Started From The Bottom... but it's no problem to grow in size...
No disguise ha... who are you kidding?
How am I "dead" If I do this for a "living" (Paradox)
I swear the top's an imaginary concept...
Cause I past it and went... laughed at it, and never went back to it since...
Other cats on the fence... looking like, "That's intense" ...
But why though? Don't be afraid of heights... you can fly, bro...
I see the time zones... it's all a mystery...
the cyclones of lines shown in patterns woven by science knows...
Defying foes, I'm a conquer... killing the lions, know...
I'm in there with the fishes... nautical, anatomical...
Yes... modern finesse, orchestrated through a pencil
And spoken which such fluidity, even music can truly see...
How it was doomed to be... ever since puberty...
Struck, I was moving keys... nothing like doing trees...
Something I do wit' ease... yes sir, it's just...
the unity of the unit, E. Honda moving at numerous speeds...
That hand work like planned birth... baby, it's good..
I build in destroy the syllables toyed and played with for my lyrical joy...
I can talk about politics if you wish...
But you don't want me. I hate talking about politics...
I hate talking about how modern modern is...
Considering that it's far from it...
If we lived by societies standards? we could sit and watch the bar plummet...
Right to the ground. Ask yourself at the moment, what are you doing now?

A valiant lion, who's bred an empire of ravenous lions, like him Completely from modern science instead of signs, watching the Zombie Apocalypse rise from the dead...kill them, n' be at the Asylum of heads circumventing the existence, just in time for his meds....!

No appetizers involved, just the mind that's evolved...
to the Darwinism of rhymers, a law, highly exalted...
the Double Helix complex, the skill inside of you all...
The finder, fine-lining, a claw to motion capture every rhyme that's drawn...
The designer, a flaw so minor, it's all inside of the head...
Of the same well wishers to ponder his genius when they lie in their beds...
A valiant lion, who's bred an empire of ravenous lions, like him
Completely from modern science instead of signs, watching
the Zombie Apocalypse rise from the dead...kill them, n' be at the Asylum
of heads circumventing the existence, just in time for his meds....!
Yes, it's roll call, I'm raps very own
Bone Saw, who alters reality n' dwells between his own laws..
Cold jaws, spit below zero, n' don't thaw...
Gnawing his fingers off... laughing, bones crackling...
No jacket, and... going back in his old ways, a old Cabin with...
Burnt out logs, A battered Kim, and Fif's Magic Stick!
Give me the Green Light, cause I don't know what traffic is...
I drive so I can crash some shit n' cause fatal accidents...
Ask for my drivers license... n' then ask again...
masking this... the Texas Chainsaw Massacre masochist!
Check my cabinets, graphic faces I stabbed up in
a Pentagram Hex... the sight of death gets me quite erect...
I like it, yet... do things to keep up the high...
A unmarked Jeep is my ride, I creep up at night, n' stick fucking people inside!
"Kids, evil's arrived!" Guns don't kill people? Shit! neither do I!
I get to feeding, deprived of eating a guy
for a quarter of the century has me all excited...
Hit the Chilean minors with a "Don't Die" survivor kit...
Who's fucking high as this? I need Snoop Lion's psychiatrist...
To try and fix this "Pimp my Ride" souped up mind of tricks...
And if you think that happening? it's actually quite cool...
Maybe when this crazy wears off, I'll grow up... like you.

And yet he still needs a breath seeing which MC’s are left... to face off even though they were deemed inept I’m the demonstration of talent for what the screen projects Open up my anatomy and my body will bleed respect

my mental blocks are pencil jots representing thoughts
a genesis of rhyming placed hibernating in cyberspace
I sat back and designed the pace
Animated delivery of time embraced
Inside the skin of a declining race
Picture the imagery in the flow and delivery
And tell me any one else out there compares — you kidding me?
An epicenter of drama dawns on the little league
They’re looking at a Godsend speaking of the epitome
And yet he still needs a breath seeing which MC’s are left...
to face off even though they were deemed inept
I’m the demonstration of talent for what the screen projects
Open up my anatomy and my body will bleed respect
So if you disregard me? You’ll get a whiff of bar heat
sizzling like a freaking Army crashing your little sisters party
Yeah you were doing it wrong
I’m the truancy moving beyond beautifully influencing song
Composure like a soldier with high weaponry...
 shooting with such accuracy it axes like an Apache Chief

So high up in the air, I careen through the ceiling Make a pile of shit seem so appealing... it's all an act... and people are filming... we talk about the mainstream when the streets are fulfilling... but deep down this media's what speaks to the children...

 
I come, sprouting out speech...venomous, with carnage and mayhem...
a dialect of bars that are like sparring when I discharge it and aim em'...
Viciously barricading the opposition inside a hole
designed to hold some of the lowest minds below... like yo
Time will show what was heeded of me. I needed to be.
Feverishly working with a mind to rid the likes of you people
Who blindly follow like the sheep finding its way back to the Steeple.
Nah, we're not gonna go there with that today.
A facade, capped away in a a lab, practiced with that cliche.
Pick up where I left off. Almost like a quest, dog.
Roaming the exploratory for a soul, I can get lost.
Boosie rappers forget odds, I'm quick to get even and kill it.
Seeded so deep in the roots even the demons can feel it.
That's why I freely conceal it, a pill
I've be eating, I'm willing to kill off a couple more before I flea from the building.
So high up in the air, I careen through the ceiling
Make a pile of shit seem so appealing... it's all an act...
and people are filming... we talk about the mainstream
when the streets are fulfilling... but deep down this media's
what speaks to the children... it's all an Episode...
we're like a Gecko though... Souls of the Machine, Gore though from that Tekken blow...
A love letter, complete with X and 0's
expressing codes of life. A Miranda when we don't know the rights, so rolls suffice.
Rocking summer clothes, even on the coldest nights...
They say my lane will come to fruition...therefore? the roads are ripe.
Nah, it's a hell of sorts...
Zombies of compelling force. Death coming, expect nothing, Alice visits Umbrella Corp...
A dynasty made of the finest brigades
Life's a charade. Waiting in the darkness, and hides behind shades.
Yes, really. The next Philly cheese cake chase.
Yep, we chasing.
These are the Free Masons
That have placed our code of ethics right inside thee' waste bin.
It's revocable.
A high regard from ones self, looking at the top... below.
It's unstoppable. It's like I went to the highest building with a building block to hold... 100 stops to go.
I say to my thoughts: "behold"
Now that's a man of his word. Who 'figured' out life to see his sanity 'curve'...
How lavish can one be? The good, the bad, and the ugly.
Brain dead society - there's nothing for the slug to eat.
For the past 10 years, I sat here and drug my feet...
Right across the median, not able to get it up the street...
It's a chemical warfare; believe it or die.
We believe it, and why? Cause it was convinced as something we need to survive.
However, facts not withstanding, they say it's so...
It's these same stories paving the road...
Telling you it's the way you should go... look at this, I mean, hey, you should know!
And don't be surprised if on your way you have to pay for a toll.
It's what's displayed on the scroll. Stories upon stories
we told our forefathers ages ago. Fallacies portraying a whole.
False ideals... but yo, it must be real.
Shiny new interior, have no trust for the rusted Steel.
The lookism of a perception that's pretty to us.
Let it not confuse you, it's Insidiousness...
laced in with visions of trust.. any one who opposes it? is kicking up dust
Rob Dyrdek ain't ready for this ridiculousness...
But... "who gives a fuck?"...right? What's the point of it all?
The philosophers have theories... the skeptics point at the wall...
The believers need to fill the void, and go for the ball
But one steps back and sees the bigger picture and goes to evolve...
No bounded by a belief that's one dimensional...
But sees a variety at hand and takes a mental note...
It set in stone. The melody walk, each block like a metronome...
In totality. One soul out of the whole galaxy.
Making strides of progress with nothing, no balance beam.
Short cuts are easy, am I right? There's no challenging.
The typical moves of the egotistical depiction of who...
You see in the mirror couldn't be any clearer
to me, this will be what the era wishes to expose
in Histories robes, until your vision explodes...
Where you visit your goals, the Museum of the Modern Day Catalyst...
The portrait of totality from the spot where the canvass sits
Angles? yes, plenty. And more to come
Including some foreign ones...completed and superseding my forum runs.
With a tact that can crack through steel.
Filling out the action reel...the capsule's still
in the back of the Bat-mobile!

it seems like... You can't dream in real life. Thoughts are sealed tight.

6 minutes, 3 minutes cause it's easy to me.
I be seizing the scene, each season is seen in the winter time - it's freezing to me!
But fuck it, I lived in Canada so long, I should be used to it.
But I'm not, I guess. The thought of the cold, makes me hot, man. It boils!
I'm just... jotting, plotting to foil the One Many Army that is myself..
A battalion... a million Trojan Horses filled with corpses still.
But the force is real. A horde of helmets rise
like the Persian army plotting an attack... That's my dropping when I rap.
It's like... a puritan... no fear in him. Swearing when..
he indulges his instincts... they won't be able to resist
the music niche. Entirely a subsidiary of my own regret.
I have dreams of being chased through a home, and yet..
I cannot see the person that's chasing me, it's a vacancy.
Like the reality of it is only something that space can see
I'm a trapped man. I know myself like the skin on my back hand.
And music makes me express myself best, that's why I am a rap fan...
I do this for fun. Every musical pun is a conquest the student begun...
The student "began", the student "begins"...sorry
trapped in a barrel closed in the Pharaoh's odes...
Feel like the heroes goals are only met with tyranny here, that's how they appear to me.
The further I look? The further the mirror can see me veering
it seems like... You can't dream in real life. Thoughts are sealed tight.
This is the venture. The written adventure, exploring a dream
from a vantage point that a contractor knows, the soul's deploying the beam...
And as my physical scope builds because I feed the energy to it...
My mental mind begins to ease and envelop its fluid
rendering of this commending influence... the Renaissance Man...
I don't pretend it, I do it.
You look at the blueprint; I execute the diagram adhering to that...
Close barriers, peering in black.
Darkness. Scaffolds swinging where these black holes linger in...
What's a thing to me? isn't a thing to him.
Monkey Bars, Guerrilla warfare, I capture the gritty essence
like John Singleton...
Yeah, channel the presence of the tangible essence...
Auto Pilot initialized... and this is the official prize...
The kryptonite crystallized...

the might's been tactful, from fighting into writing an act so mangled in doubt... the very angle it sprouts from? Pulls you out of your Kangaroo pouch.

The coming man... golden gloves, every punch serving under hand...
the history of the logic dumb down to crumbled land...
But intelligence varies on a variable scale, that lyrics detail
But it's all Apples & Oranges, with the verity here...
You ain't hearing me clear? A skill that has power of closure...
Secluded to his rounds, he'll show you the sound to oppose your...
tied in view, aligned with the movement, slightly a Jackal...
But still a Mac on a global scale, running the gist of it, like it's an Apple...
the might's been tactful, from fighting into writing an act
so mangled in doubt... the very angle it sprouts from?
Pulls you out of your Kangaroo pouch.
The logic is definite, he mangles the route
of opposition, it's dangling now... no wonder that feeling's been hanging around...
They say Evil shit's what they're speaking with.
These dumb cunts.... Food for Thought? They do nothing, butt Munch - on some Beavis shit.
Waiting to be a Millionaire, on some Regis shit...
It's all a roll, till you see the flick... on the Screen, minus the Theater shit...
Word...but with this keying shit?
My frees are slick, Venus mixed with a hybrid of skill - Toyota Prius shit...
But they know I'm evolved with the flow of it all, killing Semantics
Throw me the ball, and I'll Homer it off of your Flanders "Diddly"-antics!

..N' I'm not talking a 24 pack.. I'm talking about whore that's gag can make a solid floor board crack...

Fuck it, I'm sacred I make mistakes like any motherfucker does
Arriving piss drunk @ clubs, crunk tryin' fuck shit up...
Like ta' fuck is up? yo, I'm ready to dance..
a fucking medley on the bitch wit' the heaviest cans
..N' I'm not talking a 24 pack..
I'm talking about whore that's gag can make a solid floor board crack...
Yeah, lemme score that albacore cat!
Pussy smell like tuna, Laguna chicken Dijon
licking me on, the tip of the prick and her mom
in the whip, in her thong saying "bring em' along"!
Yeah, ring the alarm! Sean Paul - show me the light
in the 4-door, fo-fo rolling tonight
told her it's like... a Diet Soda, Cola, & Sprite..
being shaken over the shoulder watch explosions ignite
That's exposure despite a free deal..
Baby, like - be real. The most you'll get from me's a KFC 3-piece meal.

then ya main doctor? I aim' n' I squeeze blow ta' brain through ta' scrub jacket.. it'll look like a blood packet Just splattered across.. know when to pick ya battles you picked a battle n' lost.. the automatic's a boss come with a static, exhaust every problematical cause..

Fuck the past...
let's get that money yo, cut the cash!
Better do it properly or I'm coming to bust that ass!
Right the fuck open, body arriving
to the hospital dying with a fucking doctor inside
Trying stop the blood clots so you could possibly survive n'...
If that's the case I'm coming back with masking tape
FUCK sewing that ass in place..
Walk right into the hospital room you're in n' then bash ya face
with a baseball bat full of nails in it - like, bleed to death
I don't need to jet, I just wait for the nurse in attendance
watch as she bursts in the entrance than squirt till she's breathless..
Knock her first off the guest list... ha,
then ya main doctor? I aim' n' I squeeze
blow ta' brain through ta' scrub jacket.. it'll look like a blood packet
Just splattered across..
know when to pick ya battles
you picked a battle n' lost..
the automatic's a boss
come with a static, exhaust every problematical cause..
Bandanna tied around...
see the barrel? no surprises now
sunrise n I'll... walk 12 paces n' shoot just as the skies go down..

The Helios shining through the dark night, flashing a glow... And striking the walls of Hades dark taverns with a passionate blow..

my mind volleys.... through intercepts with the line, I'll be...
sitting there... a written veers off the pine
I'm just... thinking out loud, meaning the decibels burn
but yet, the message is revered, it's second nature to me to break in the door.
The after effect of snapping the neck off of labor and then...
Putting it back together from scratch... so I can break it again...
The scales scale back...I'm placing a gem on the same stand
Indiana Jones ran from the ball inside of the cave, man...
So if your brave, then say your name and... recognize
my efforts lie in solely trying to better myself, with whatever helps.
The Helios shining through the dark night, flashing a glow...
And striking the walls of Hades dark taverns with a passionate blow..
Yes, I fastened the globe into my papoose.
Harnessed it on my back, but made sure to keep the strap loose.
My meter's full with the half truths...
Tired of y'all being liars involved with societies fall... You used to watch Pokemon... aren't you trying to evolve?
Man... I know I am, and it's possible too... but death's here...
The steps been cleared... backwards, M.C Escher tier... it's best to steer...
Right... appearing to be engineering the scene...
Fuck rap! No, not a rhyme either... FUCK rap!!!!
If there was ever a presence that can be associated with such a thing
it would've happened already. But it hasn't, they asked for my heading...
No actual setting. Just a threshold
that was broken, like we're crashing a Wedding...
masterful penning tactics, that have been practiced, forgetting
lapses, collapsing the thread and... asking for the masses
to pass it back to him, then in... zero to sixty? let the mirror eclipse me.
No fear, I am here, so let this be...
the moment of silence, goading your little eyelids
to open up on door-stopper of events... cause it's tense...
The Satan's spawn the mother repents
Not me, I've governed the sense of covenants, pens that are summoned begin to running this suffering trend of hippies love to defend...
But we're brothers of Men...
The same ones who've discovered this Gem. The same one that's come to an end.

Sonic's zone. Rings beyond the Emerald rocks below... Jumping on the top of those objects until the box explodes...

So don't attack... retreat.
Your veteran status ain't that unique...
Peep the master speak. Cats 'buckle up' like a fastened seat...
Yeah, this is domestic. Written suggests it has no home but its own...
My formula's known to revel in the coldest of tones. Soluble zones.
I'm tired, so if this is coming off lazy? my apologies.
Protein knocked me out. I woke up with nothing to talk about.
But lit a match under my ass when I saw Crummy reply to it
And the passion inside snatched up my pen and told my ass to "Reply...do it!"
So I did. I always divulge the voice in my head...
When his choice of a thread involves warping the human mind with poisonous lead...
I hoisted the dead from the cemetery... like fuck it.
If the passion lives on? I'm getting em' classics beyond where the casket is, dog.
I'm the Sundance Kid -- Harry Alonzo Longabaugh
Butch Cassidy's notable killer crew with the Soco flow...
So die hastily. Or try replacing me, don't matter.
My mind's a vacancy... of multiple line complacency...
I just rap. That's all I know. Follow the melodic road...
strictly a platonic mold... know about it? Not a soul...

Jumping on the top of those objects until the box explodes...
Running through the prairies under 10 minutes, the clock foretold
it on screen - lock and load. I finished every obstacle!
Final level now, I didn't think that it was possible.
To beat Dr.Robotnik - I squashed em' though, and got the goal!
But that was back in the 90's, you don't have to remind me...
I found that game to be a cult classic. Locked up in the vault, bastard.
And as a result? Madness. I spit out acid
I should've stopped bars ago, but it's my passion.
I'm recovering classics, like a muttering has-been.
Tell Robert Rath, there's ANOTHER Assassin
Up in this bitch... So don't swing me an offer, if you have nothing to pitch.
I'm cutting this shit...down to a fraction to share it up with you pricks.
Sonic's zone. Rings beyond the Emerald rocks below...

like Andy Dufresne... crawled out through a sewer pipe to stand in the rain... full of a shit... the fucking man's insane...

And once I go? I can't stop it. It's like a damn Mosh pit.
Fans stomping around your man like it's damn Compton.
Yeah... fucking psycho fellows just writing our guts out.
Type to take out a knife, drape you up like, "we're raping your wife"
And we'll say it polite... in a calming manner: "Bro, you're way too uptight".
Or obtuse... like Andy Dufresne... crawled out through a sewer pipe
to stand in the rain... full of a shit... the fucking man's insane...
I would never do that... this is Canada, mane.
Got mitts on my hands for all day, and my family's crammed in a Sleigh.
So yeah, I'm OK. It's a like a Prison, with no plans to escape!
WOOOT... I love this life, the fucking fresh air.
We'll have one hot day... in July, starting next year.
If we ever had two? I'd probably get scared.
And simulate an Alaska Landscape, so it was less weird.
I mean, why not right? the colder the better.
holding a sweater, bearing the cold of the weather; it's what holds us together.
While we're in our igloos, maple tap on command
The word "Eh" is tattooed to the back of my hand.
Which is right next to the one of our National Flag
I'm happy to be in this country, even if it seems they don't want me
I just... I dunno, hang around and talk Hockey
while I fish with my lads and drink Tim Horton's hot coffee.
You cannot stop me!
Ha ha... just kicking this shit.
Even if it sounds ridiculous with this stiff upper lip
affixed to the muscle underneath, constricted it... this...
Is only me, telling a story.
The hell with the glory, I'd rather be compelling than boring
with a Pulitzer Prize... full of just lies.
I'm a pupil, but look in my eyes.
Get it? You were took by surprise.
Hookers, get wise! my pimp hand's strong.
Walk with a limp, and it's on.
Face covered like the gimp. But big as the Amazon.
Don't get whipped in front of all of these people....
like ______ did, and fall on the cathedral.
I'm not ____ -less, but for all of my evil?
I've been drawing the feeble off of the steeple, toppled.
You equals not to be seen through any obstacles...
dropping, so we go off of the top, they're fetal.
But who is? Judas. Quite contrite with being the truest?
Because the see the influence that's been impeding my music?
I'm sorry, but I'm not the guy you're looking for.
This is my life, and you took a tour. So get off of the bus!
Playing possum with us (smh!) turn rocks into dust...
When I stomp on em' stuffs. It's awesome, I crush motherfucking blocks, it's a rush!


Like Animal and Hawk on the bucks (turnbuckles)
My words couple, marital status... locked into cuffs...
It's an officers bust!

Who're are the top ten artists? Shit, there's nobody now. And if there is, and they're truly a king of this, then show me the crown!

The fuck? This is a rest stop.
Shitting on rappers. Diligent, that uh... militant cat, willing to scrap ya.
Swing with the syllables while they're still in the rafters
dodging the strong concussion of thought, which won't save them from feeling this rapture.
It's too ill with it, they're willing to ask the...
question of if... the messages kicked fit with the rest of his tiff.
I'm explicit. You questionable midgets mention a distance?
I punt ya, no perpetual limit. I'm guessing you in it.
The pendulum swings at the fence of your district... so look at me like,
"I guess he means business", no innuendo for this shit, it's real life..
You feel hyped? Then call me out.
Show em' what it's all about. Apart of a chain, like Walton's House.
You all are the same, saw your routes. I can't follow the lame
Hollowed-in, bottle of fame. Alcohol for your fuel, while you wallow in pain.
Take the next tab. You fakes address that
you're weak to me. I'm out on your drive way, finding your PCP.
You're whacked out of your mind, that's why you're speaking free.
But you'll pay for your words, and cash out once you see the fee.
I hate you funny bums. No strings attached to it..
accurate as fuck, came back to this. Like Maxwell Cassettes,
no iPod or Tablets, bitch. Back to the compacted Discs
of the late 90's, classes with 10 dollars for a mix...
of Classic Hits...yeah, that was the hassle, its...
not the same. The new revolution rots my brain, like a Zombie slaying...
Out of body, can't get with the songs they're playing...
Now, it's all about... Rihanna and Lady Gaga's making headlines in Paparazzi pages!
The new general Natzi races of copies, chasing
the media through the lobby makes this hobby take its spot, embracing
thoughts erased from the hottest stations Hip Hop's encased in.
FUCK!!!
They need to retire from this theme, the desire
to scream at these liars is like a host of files, I'm looking for my Mediafire...
Jesus, the higher they put that echelon, is like I see a Messiah
So I want to leave the game for good, like Malik from The Wire
But it keeps dragging me back like, "Gee, I need that".
Constant feed back for the keys rapped.
Holding it down, like a Baptism when there's no one around.
Showing the child, no mercy in the lake
telling him: "You're going to drown".
Who're are the top ten artists? Shit, there's nobody now.
And if there is, and they're truly a king of this, then show me the crown!
Ha. Nothing there, you're fronting, queer.
You suckers swear you're at the Bay, I'm a Buccaneer... with new stuff to tear.
Out you're fucking rear!
Believe me, I'm crazy.
It's like the planted the seeds of Shady with me, as a Baby.
Then left me to grieve where I wouldn't been seen, till the 80's...

A commodity. A bond of lines placed beyond the Gauntlet of minds. They figure Taut is divine. Sorry. I am just dropping in twine. My model's the philosopher's grind of Plato's arch. Archaic, yet...a Brawn, in design.

So reply to this then.
Don't try to pretend you ain't eying this, friend.
you know you've been peeping this shit
To see who you're competing against.
But yeah, King, spit the fire.... engulfing a flame.
Cause the modern world ain't been
the same since the Exalted as came.
It's so like these sociologists try to throw salt on my name
Insulting my reign. I'm Timothy Dalton playing'
James Bond, your brains on the terrain. Gone.
These lames, playing the same song.
Get Jays, like my name's Shawn. And it hasn't changed since then.
This pen? inflicting. melody cues.
The devilish hues of Satan. Using patience to move to you through acoustic statements.
Just patterns on tape - elated to fans.
Like the lighter flames from the stands, as they're waving their hands.
World stage, at the Grand.
It's amazing. Almost like I play in a band.
They just chant my name on command.
Wow. Intelligence speaking for the gentlemen. I'm letting em' peak in...
to see how the puritan works.
They acclaim it as greatness without hearing it first.
Verses. Works of artists that stretch the dawn of time.
A commodity. A bond of lines placed beyond the Gauntlet of minds.
They figure Taut is divine.
Sorry. I am just dropping in twine. My model's
the philosopher's grind of Plato's arch. Archaic, yet...a Brawn, in design.

Thought you were counting? You need a mixtape for promotion; I'll be hotter without it... So don't bother with clowning. If we're talking washed up? Then dude, your obviously drowning... And a giant can shower in the water surrounding..

Ha... now we know that's a lie... really no authority, dog.
That's a test, a studio wouldn't need Maury to call.
Let's face the facts - a garbage bin is the only logical spot
a person would place your tracks... you running your mouth
and it finally looks like it's making laps. Thought you were counting?
You need a mixtape for promotion; I'll be hotter without it...
So don't bother with clowning.
If we're talking washed up? Then dude, your obviously drowning...
And a giant can shower in the water surrounding..
I'll keep it short and sweet. This dork's weak.
The only purpose he serves is making my personal Morgue complete.
Fucking forum geeks get dotted out, like Morgan's cheeks.
Off a Free, man... we know G ain't gonna MC, damn. (GMC)
So where's your Crossover, hip hop Soldier?
You're not a recruit. Wouldn't need Kiefer to see you really had no shot in the booth.
Watch you drop off of a roof. Like Bi-shop in Juice.
And that was a bit of a stretch, but so is anything you've written in text.
And By George, you'll lose - like Zimmerman's ex.
Whether skittles or just... wearing a Hoodie, G, it'll be an imminent death!
So yeah, Peace, love, and rock and roll.
What you drop is bull. And I blocked the goal
of your post, like a Soccer Ball.
Socking you. Man, kind of depressing how you talking though, throw you off like a Guacamole.
Dropped in pasta bowl.
Always high, embody a Rasta's soul.

I stick to my guns. But I'm sure you kids will call me the ridiculous one. Because I'm indifferent to one person dying out of a fucking billion to come!

Huh? What are you laughing at?
This is "Acid Rap". And they don't got a "Chance" at that...
I have plans to stack more lyrics on a piece of paper.
Pinnochio meets Carlo Collodi - come and meet your maker.
You look inside of my repertoire? it's a deepened crater...
But asking me f'real? I'm a say "it's something you'll sleep in later"
If you live through your memories, then that's a short stop...
The road's paved with gold from my stories - this is Fort Knox.
I'm off of the rack - no support locks.
Four blocks, from Edmonton, to Bramalea to Brampton to the Future
like Wayne & Drake, from date to date.
This is my demo, so play the tape.
You like it or not, my thoughts always lay awake.
I'm rinsing in the pools of the Monkey's; I am a Bathing Ape...
Fleeting over tracks in one direction, like a train escape.
You knocking the boots? I'm swift in mine...
around the clock, like the ticking time...
I think of lines synchronize it in quick design...
So think of the Napoleon of his time... a revolutionary
pivoting the hordes of music, causing a fusion near me.
1080p HD, this is face time.
Broaden the spectrum for the modern set, son...
Hold the SHIELD down, but not for protection.
Loki's and mischief. And this shit? Much more different, for instance
the talent and skills are like talons and gills.
Verses revel, in an altitude that can't be measured by surface level...
The momentum is picking up... writing words...
more subtler than Ricin, hitting vital nerves - Rapbattles Heisenberg

nods

I'm a jerk. Kill a guy in a Hawaiian designer shirt...
Cold's shit. Both my fists in the pavement like, "Don't Resist"!
Focused, bitch. The Punisher's here to pummel you queers...
Dragging behind a car while you rummaging there, under the rear...


http://youtu.be/Et3eVcMdxBI?t=3m10s


I hope it's come to you clear (puts on Frank Castle moniker): I made you kill your wife AND your son.
Damn, it's fun. It's funny, the more you feel like a God, the more you're deemed the Satanic one.
That branded gun's loaded, ready to fire at your petty desire
to be a higher MC with that drive, until you're inside of a Tree...
in flames, fucking fire debris flies and is seen
by a near by guy, and his 3... friends, with their iPhone cameras at all angles, in awe.
They can't unseen what they've saw. Dangling jaw.
Tangled, the raw.... metal hanging off the passenger, mangled abroad...
Yeah, that's right. I'm rapping about it now, for people to see.
The franchise lives on... even if he's deceased. The speaking has ceased.
Paul Walker's gone... and there's still Vin Diesel, heating the streets.
Then it all comes full circle... cause everyone keeps FEEDING THE BEAST!!!!!
I don't give a damn. People die every day.
Mothers cry as their fucking children lie there decayed, foot inside of the grave.
I'm desensitized because I am awake.
The lies that they make televised to our eyes a mistake.
The modern Garden Of Eden, seeing the rise of the Snake...
I key style any way. On some dead people shit, or if they're alive? I stick to my guns.
But I'm sure you kids will call me the ridiculous one.
Because I'm indifferent to one person dying out of a fucking billion to come!



GET OVER IT!!!!!

I bring you idiots out - Dinner For Schmucks... Raise that ring up? Then your finger gets cut, and taking out the window like, "This isn't enough"? Or do you need a trophy too, you miserable cunt?

I'm on my Omen shit.... bones get split...
archeologist go in with a flash light, to see the osteoporosis hit..
My style? Moses gift... yeah, figured I wasn't done with it, yet...
Summon a vet, not likely, when he's under duress...
That's why I hunt my victim's down in my Punisher sweats
infinite ammo like a cheat code, no reload...
this is a free flow, see no...
stopping the threshold, here we go...
off of the ledge... Tebow... this here's Evil...
Sorry for the lack of a fight.... run up in traffic and flatten the light, causing a car accident hike after I strike..
The master despite formal teachings. Don't care.
SlugTerra mug like the Disney show aired (Mickey: O-Ho! Don't go there)
Oh yeah. Just did. My league's
like DC because it just is(Justice)
Fuck, you don't know what a punch is?
This is all about substance.
Deep down. I do it with a key-style. A free style.
Run a 103 miles around these youngings.
Dumb styles. Call me Young Miles.
Run wild in the jungle yelling out "Come proud!"
Back in the gym. Working on my back and then
had that Protein shake after I did like, "That's the shit!"
When I'm bored with raps, I go out and explore the facts.
It makes me more relaxed.
Winners are fucked. But kids are in luck.
I bring you idiots out - Dinner For Schmucks...
Raise that ring up? Then your finger gets cut, and taking out the window like, "This isn't enough"?
Or do you need a trophy too, you miserable cunt?
Double-meaning, that Taxidermy hobby at the Dinner, I am physically stuffed!
Not thinking, what's up? That's me on daily.
You guys are feeding the baby. And he needs to be crazy.
Nah, y'all are feeding the beast and need to retreat.
I need me some sleep, it's 3:37AM....
AND I'M REPEATING THE BEAT - ING from this evening, to speak...
-in to this microphone here.
I write alone. Clear the hype from on the Titantron.
You need your life withdrawn.... too much Sesame Street...
Too much more or lessons to reach the intellectual peaks...
But fuck it, I'm crashing I'm tired.
Plus I lack the desire to rap at this time, I'll...
pass it back to the next guy to light the match to the fire...

ah, just to show me I can flex my chops. I'm not even perplexed by his text-less drops... His unit of measure in metric stops here when I drop this flopped tier and deplete his entire foundation out like a Tetris Block.

ah, just to show me I can flex my chops.
I'm not even perplexed by his text-less drops...
His unit of measure in metric stops
here when I drop this flopped tier and deplete
his entire foundation out like a Tetris Block.
And it'll scream "Level 1 Complete", in Neon Green, in his Message Box!
Ha... fucking faggoty dude, you wanna get dragged in this too?
Your 'plane' rhymes are landing signs for me, bring the baggage on through!
Once they toe tag you? you're through.
Feeling like an Historian when you get E-gypped
like Imhotep... n' you can hang in his tomb.
Bang Bang, you are doomed!
One Post for this dumb joke.
I'm number 1# first class, you can run Coach.
Sons hopes of winning against me? is the chance of seeing Natalie Nunn's throat
as she bows on my dick. So don't come at me with that cowardice shit.
You little powerless prick. You seeding against me?
I'll deflower you, quick. Burger King rappers, tho. Your crown ain't legit!
Build the casket up, and surround it with bricks.
You're under the sea(C). So much so you'll catch a Marry L, and persist that Flounder's the shit!
Ha, clowning you, now you can sit... down n' then spit, that for a worthy cause.
Cause even the mirror's exposing your verses flaw.
Deposit you in the casket, n' bank on a killing, when I see your hearse withdraw.
Completely coming down with the sentence, bitch, like I worked in law!

Don't give a damn about your ghettos and blocks. You ain't menacing, ock. You flu, in my presence, peasant - medicine shot.

Yo, you whack as fuck.
ALWAYS FRONTING about how your things bust, well back it up.
It doesn't fit the bill, bird brain, you're sounding like Daffy Duck.
fuck, where's reason? Sucker's breathing up dust. Well, Sonny's, it's Hunting Season.
Don't give a damn about your ghettos and blocks.
You ain't menacing, ock. You flu, in my presence, peasant - medicine shot.
He a gangsta? LOL. I'm betting he's not.
Sounding pathetic, your shelf life's something I can get in a shop.
I'm sorry, it's just when I see people like you....
Talking about how you keeping the tool?
I can't help but laugh. You're on a level that Celph has passed.
Bottom line's nobody felt your tracks.
Keep it hoarded inside your house, with your selfish ass.
You ain't running the game, your mental laps ain't representing facts...
Ha. What a facade, brother. I'm killing this person.
Fucking dummy, no strings attached - this is the Ventriloquist working.
Oscar. Oscar. STFU, please.
Just another geek. Who ain't love the hustle, because he's weak.
Undiscovered. Meek. A pity of bar usage.
You're silly, your pars useless.
Your skills a mirage.
The private, who still ain't a Sarge, movement.
Can't walk in my shoes, and then talk like you're the Doc of this music..
When you read it off of the blueprint.
That I dropped in the News bin!
Like Rorschach, at the end of the Watchmen. Keep talking.
The gloves are on, and you got a Cop out - I'm 'beat' boxing.
Homie, you need Oxygen. All you do is breathe toxins in.
One shot to the dome? You see Pac again.
Yeah... as you can tell? Me not trying will still have you grabbing the L.
Like you were a frugal fuck, and they had it on sale.
A Madchild. But I had to Prevail.
Getting static, dragging you well over the carpet. I gotta hammer this nail!
UGHHHHH.
The fuck you going do? This ruckus got you 0 and 2
on RIA, so take those gay bars away from the sparring cage.
Believe me, you coming together with something as clever as me
is as likely as your talons scraping my crown when I rustle your feathers.
Sucka.

I don't know whether it's the pain that fits your frame. Or if it's because the shit's the same. Yeah, freaking lame. Much like your written name. Put your 25 cent coin in a different game, homie, you won't WIN A THING!

Your bars are incredibly simple, here's some medical info...
You never hit, like an infinite attack punch, after you set it in limbo.
Oh, I get it - you're Kimbo. I just jot and I write.
You just duck for cover. So in reality? it's like, you're not in the fight.
Thought that I bite? Well show me to the proof, younging. This is a truthful sonning.
Tell this Edward Cullen faggot that the moon's coming.
So you ain't using nothing. I'm a wolf in this bitch.
Any attack you throw at me from here on out? will result in a diss.
From the Highly Exalted eclipse.
Have you hanging it up, or ringing it in - either way, this battle will have you 'Calling It Quits'.
Monkey See. Monkey Do. And I'm riveting now.
Considering how I'm about to go Ape shit on that primitive style..
of yours. Pull the pinnacle down.
And force you into retirement.
My skill? you require it.
Out of rounds. How you firing? Yeah, I'm dropping some filler.
Cause you're not really ill, uh... shot for shot blow on a wannabe killer.
Really. How's that honestly realer? Trying to rap.
I got eyes on my back. Mighty Joe Young going on a Gorilla!!!!
Modestly, I cannot really feel ya. There's just a lack of desire...
You whack, new script for this faggot - all actors get hired.
I don't know whether it's the pain that fits your frame.
Or if it's because the shit's the same. Yeah, freaking lame.
Much like your written name. Put your 25 cent
coin in a different game, homie, you won't WIN A THING!
Circle around you fucking squares when I'm in a ring.
Call up my boy David, n' tell em he's fucking "with a King"!
And no, I'm not Presley. Get in your lane.
Come at me Crooked, I'll Slaughter House, n' sever your frame.
We're both typing, if I'm correct. But don't deny
the text is why I am the best. Your bars? hah!
Designed as reps. Steroid injection - no side effects.
This guy addressed my home. And I let em' inside, as Guest.
Yeah. Every bar I got beats any prospective you hold.
Best that you fold... out, your whole fucking deck's exposed.
(double meaning card deck/folding your hand/house's deck, fold out furniture - C'MON, MAN!)
I don't give a FUCK! if you got rap shit on DATPIFF.
I throw ONE tomahawk at this whack bitch? And that's it!
Say your good byes. They'll have to stream it on the day that you die.
Take the mixtape down off the site and save the replies.
in their database, I... am corny? That's news to me.
Maybe we can dedicate that to your Eulogy. Posthumously!

So give me this ratchet, bitch. A prick, more than a Cactus is. I crack your ribs on the McDonald's Arches, so I can watch it split at several different axises.

LOL @ the dust around from the mushroom cloud crushing, wow!
Fucking clown! Yeah, how does it feel to be under ground?
(Huh?) Literally. You can't get rid of me. Every bit of D-
N-A is like a relay of keys placed, for you to Freebase... on
A destructive nature of touching paper.
A victim of habit.
Up in your head, cause he lives in the attic like Roger
from American Dad, scribbling at is.. notebook..
with Rachel McAdams face on the cover... he's physically had it.
Needs Zoloft to doze off. So his father keeps...
given em' tablets..
He sits in the blackness, drawing pictures of catfish.
Why? Cause he's miserable, and considerably tragic.
If you look at him, his innards are like a miniature of sinister lashes.
So give me this ratchet, bitch.
A prick, more than a Cactus is.
I crack your ribs on the McDonald's Arches, so I can watch it split
at several different axises.
I don't know what I'd do without this rapping shit, I'd probably hijack
the tractor which... flipped over. One Zimmmerman shaved.
I should live in a cave. Every psychic evaluation I've had, says I'm insane.
But I'm not, it's just one hell of a game.
Well... at least that's what I'm telling my brain.
Tell Gallagher, I'm a watermelon of pain. I got so much Melatonin
swelling my veins, I got Senators saying I should be hired into a chair, instead of McCain.
I'm sorry, but my sickness doesn't have a medical name.
Take so much adderall, and anesthetics for pain, that medics complain.
Oh right. I wasn't supposed to go after my Celph.
Shit. I mastered my self.
Whooping ass. just took the latch off his belt....AND asked me for help (what?)
Ha. Inside joke for ... but what I pave will get bumpy
when I go for the X-Files, like I'm David Duchovny!

Elephant Music. All Tusk. And it gets played in the trunk, b.
In other-words, I'm saying it's funky. You gays get serrated to lunch meat!

But if step a 'foot' in my 'yard', you truly will see who's the "Ruler" MC. Dude, you're no $G$. The fact you'd even PUT dollar signs around it, seems foolish to me. You ain't worth jack. And YOU would agree. We're not even in the same class, but I can school you with ease. And for those dollar signs? I'll make you the pay the punitive fees. I'm a movement who's seized the oxygen, down to every unit you breath And removed it, for the hot air - you're just "shooting the breeze".

AR-15's... what you firing with?
your proprietor dips out the back of your ballroom club, trying to split.
Nope. Not gonna happen. Yeah, I hop in the back, and...
Beat you like Byfield did the guy in the bathroom... with the SIDE OF A VACUUM...


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I7Kajvsds-I


... like,
"WHO YOU TRYIN' ATTACH TO?"
BITCH!!!!!!
Then cut you in two.
Pure substance. And this ONLY cause I have nothing to do.
Sucka. Under the influence of me, but reluctant to brew.
Come at "Sonic" speed with the punches until both my "Knuckles" are "blue"!
Sega Genesis shit. What you know about Robot Sonic? (faggot)
Exactly. Fucking playing Agent Oso and shit.
I coast through this with... no approach, the motionless wit.
Conjure up oceans and flip your sailor's boat right over a ship.
I'm a tough cookie. Yeah... like the one your Mom bakes.
Have her pet my long snake.... like "C'mon, wait!!!
Fucking whore. What's the mustard for?"
'This hot dog'
"No! Suck it raw! Put the mustard back in the Cupboard drawer"!
And trust me. She'll suck until the rubbers wore...
Then I'll nut it. Post it on her chest, like a Pirate discussion board!!!!
Ha. You're not ready for me, machete a $G$.
I ain't letting him be. anything we... take a part in(take a pardon) like a Judge was letting me free.
Speaking of free... I know you're reluctant, you bitch.
I heard Germfree... n' all you good for is SUCKING A DICK!
"Masah'! I got some mus'-terd n' grits!"
Fucka. Cut you in six... pieces on St.Patrick's, to show your luck don't exist.
How you gonna say my stuff isn't crisp?
480 degrees, motherfucker - the oven's blitzed!
And you just discovered to spit with another, so this
isn't even a fair fight. This is vacuum sealed royalty... heir tight.
Yeah.
You.
Can't.
Measure.
Greatness.
But if step a 'foot' in my 'yard', you truly will see who's the "Ruler" MC.
Dude, you're no $G$.
The fact you'd even PUT dollar signs around it, seems foolish to me.
You ain't worth jack. And YOU would agree.
We're not even in the same class, but I can school you with ease.
And for those dollar signs? I'll make you the pay the punitive fees.
I'm a movement who's seized the oxygen, down to every unit you breath
And removed it, for the hot air - you're just "shooting the breeze".
Ha. A Classick. No Kabuki.
You see, rebuking your theme's is most wise.
Where this microphone lies, you're doomed to be teased.
So back to the talent. Oh wait, you're void of that. Destroyed, thinking that boy can rap.

dropping the anchor. Fucking net heads, talk like a wanker. And sound like a fag, so when I spot ya, and pop my head out the top of my Tanker? There will be no off switch for stopping my anger!

I'm not mad at all. I'm just... taking my pent up frustration
for rap and throwing it at a wall, like I had a ball.
Feeling like Michael Jackson in this bitch; grab my balls.
If I had to ring it in? Believe me, I'd be to last to call.
But that's before. Tattered clothing, looking battered in war.
Stick a javelin through the adamantium claw of Wolverine
and watch Magneto stand in applaud...
I'm only a fan of the raw, unadulterated scholars
who use to spit on live stages and bust...
in front of audiences who craved it enough to make it
such a significant time in those days. I'm talking Scribble Jam.
But the evolution took it up to a bigger stand.
Figured they'd trigger plans to expand what we celebrated in levels, mate. It's... astounding.
Now fast forward it. Cash rules in rap offices.
The platinum certifications are like track scholarships.
Not hating or nothing, or making assumptions
I'm taking this once, glorious endeavor, to serenade it with substance.
You fruits? won't mix me up. You can take your high
fructose establishment, in stick it inside of a Dixie cup.
Cause this is what... I'm talking about...
Christopher unsure of his career, just Walken in doubt...
taking every obstacle out
of the Hurdles race before embarking my route...
No challenge. Juggling every trade... show balance, but with
more talent.
Ski high, waving goodbye to my co-pilot.
Crush your dome pallet. With a microphone now completely made from a chrome mallet... till your brain goes out it!
Yeah, mystical rap. That boom bap.
That, Sticky Fingaz @ the Source Awards, shooting the room
while doing a tune rap.
That 12 in the afternoon nap. Then make a kaboom that...
makes you lose track of the Daily News cap.
--tion on your tube rap.
I'm Hugh Jack. -man, I had to say that.
dropping the anchor. Fucking net heads, talk like a wanker.
And sound like a fag, so when I spot ya, and pop my head out the top of my Tanker?
There will be no off switch for stopping my anger!

Dorian Gray of rapping, I swear... the ugliness inside of me is enough to put a crack in the mirror but I can't say the Portrait ain't capture the spirit.

I start bold
I'm the Raider of the Lost Arc.
the apex of disaster. Mocking the dark.
My weakest rhyme? can shoot to the top of the chart.
I'd dumb it down, but either way? They're not really smart.
So what's the point? Brilliance here, stroking my ego.
In the innocence of the world trade, hoping for Evil.
I'm Marked For Death... which is cool. I'm fine, watching you phony's fail.
Poke your eyes out...rocking Seagal's ponytail.
Ha. Back-breaker. The Bane of your existence.
Painful, when resistant. Aim, and then I rip shit.
My frame's of misfit. Tactical wear for all the rappers in here
Who think they're sick, but are masking their fear.
Dorian Gray of rapping, I swear... the ugliness inside of me is
enough to put a crack in the mirror
but I can't say the Portrait ain't capture the spirit.
Aging 1000 years for every torturous rhyme that I've forced in my mind.
Making a fortune designing the bastard instruments of my course, with a line.
So get your torches and find...
The light at the end...
Cause I don't like to pretend.
When I'm typing? this pen's likely a friend to give me a knife,
bottle of Vicodin, and... a license to spend
most of my vacant time taking your spine out of its column.
Detaching the pivot point right down to the bottom.
With all of this weak royalty? Getting the crown was no problem
I just snatched it. Along with the gown, then dotted out
of it, plotting a next attack on any clown who goin' want it...
You see? It's crucial I flex these musical pecs'...
Using this text as a noose to your neck... hanging you from your own
bullshit, then removing the steps.
It's an exclusive, I guess.
And the fact I do this in less than a minute, with no perpetual limits only proves I'm the best
So you? should address the greatness that's emerged.
Channeling words instrumental to success to all your panicking nerves.
Man, this deserves some kind of eerie theme music.
Or at least pyrotechnics, smoke screens, and some flashing lights.
I am a rap device.
I'm telling you to kill yourself, and I ain't asking twice.
Slash your wrists, and consider it favor as I detach your fists...
completely from the wound and bash you with your own fractured limbs..!

Fuck the adhesive, I've been ridiculous, cousin. So shit, you can 'stick' to assumptions. Stick my dick in a F15 passage way, before it lifts off from launch base, so the missile won't function...

F'real.... official with Steele... like I worked in a mill...
verses appeal to all ages, got that personal feel.
Ha... like, "I heard he conceals..." not likely, I just rap.
with this Mic intact. Nope. Nevermind. I'm just typing that.
Nitrous, and a box of TNT - so go light a match.
Fire tracks from inside the ash, my drive doesn't require gas.
Nor OnStar... trust me, road side assistance is nothing...
And I'm brainless, like my fucking mind's missing or something.
Who's got their back? when they're in a position of FRONTING?
Fuck the adhesive, I've been ridiculous, cousin.
So shit, you can 'stick' to assumptions.
Stick my dick in a F15 passage way, before it
lifts off from launch base, so the missile won't function...
"Yo, the fuck, man?" I'm nuts. Monocle there.
It was a cat-walk for Celph Taut to model the tier...
I'm calling camaraderie on a lot of you queers
Under the influence, got a high blood alcohol content that's not over beers..HANHHH!???
Like the Ying Yang Twins, but I'm not whispering to you...
I'm Charles Lee Ray with a fucking doll in my hand, envisioning voodoo!
Listening to that Detroit Michigan dude, that's sick with his music...
But I bang to the beat of my own drum - both my fists are acoustics!
Yup. Sorry for the delay.
But I'm the Prodigal son.
The fallen comets of one astronomical cunt (That's me)
You want drama, you punk?
Yeah... didn't think so. Think fast, so I drink slow
With continuous pressure, that kitchen sink flow.
Just, letting my ink go... Irv Gotti....
these words probably hit a nerve. Got me exactly what I deserved - BODIES.
I'm not a role model, hell... not even looked up to.
The stuff that I do? Is under the influence of a couple of brews.
But fuck it, that's just another excuse.
Stick my tongue out at rappers like, "Grow a pair"
I laced the spot, but you can't run in my shoes...
And if you didn't catch that, those were metaphors on sneaker ware.
Go read it again, n' see that C can M-"C" with this Pen...
--cill in his hand... Mr. Syllable Man.
Scribbling... and... just... being Militant.
a killer who ran his course with Tyrannic force.
Lower torso - both hands divorced.
Damn, I wanna go out on a limb and say I have no plans on trashing this corpse...
Unless, you ask me. Of course.
Then, everything's completely different.
Heart's icy cold, like my fucking artery's heat resistant.
Got no leg to stand on; I'll rap knee-deep in this shit.
Crazy enough to ransack a Rich man and beat him 'cents less'
Hence this... bravado I wear, like Johnny Bravo was here..
Jizz on your mama n' smear my liquid children on her brassiere...!!!!
YUCK. Now do me a favor? And not tell your kids...
Got a hellish wit...the Devil's just a jealous prick!!!

Fill The Void, I'm the Sentry; it's apparent, without me... Shit'll collapse. Miserable cats sitting, relaxed in the lair being despicable, while I'm running physical laps around their visual axis..

King of the playground; where's my reverent medal?
Get it? Nah, never hesitant - ghetto...
mentality. Celph Taut... 1000 lines of photographs.
protoplasm covers the epitaph that he's holding, that's
a lot like his fucking scrotum, past
the gonads. Bonafide monarch of the forum raps.
And his public decorum asks more of em', as he's blaring
past the defensive linemen, Hip Hop's own Warren Sapp.
A hook, without an enormous plat--
form performing a chorus track...
Spatial in nature, paper ignoring gaps.
Just... minimal boundaries... so yeah, here's the Bounty.
Fill The Void, I'm the Sentry; it's apparent, without me...
Shit'll collapse. Miserable cats
sitting, relaxed in the lair being despicable, while I'm
running physical laps around their visual axis..
Food for thought? Here's your platter.
Medusa's glare of music, causing mirrors to shatter.
With the lyrics. Shit, the merits I gathered..
Is cool... battling tool... minus a classes of rules...
While you cats sniffed glue, n' used to tattle in school...GAH!
I scoff at that. Photo negative aspect...
the chopping block of Hip Hop intact. Non-stop bonkers-rap.
Yeah, lungs deflated... and his tonsils cracked.
But I don't give a fuck, misery's where I get my concepts at..
My mind's a theater - "Yo, where the concert at?"
So much tread on this fucking brain of mine? I don't think I'll get the deposit back!

A Killer. Know... no boundaries,I'm peeling the skin off of the bones. Anti social, so I'm often alone. And suicidal, doctors say I'm hospital prone. Need prescription to Zoloft, as I walk in my home. That's where the obstacles roam-- around, like they're lost little souls, that float around like the black dots in my ocular zones...!!!!!

My sets iller. A fucking zoo. A bunch of net Guerrilla's...
war bound.. that's metaphors, wow!
But how so? Cause I'm bound! Tied down to the cross roads.
Colossal. Head made out of Dinosaur fossils.
fucking nose so big, you can see inside of my nostrils.
Notice how my brain operates.
Dropping tapes from a 4 walled room, with no windows
-- you can not escape!
Crooked I skill, hoping that you got it "straight".
Hooked, without the narcotics, mate.
But yeah, highly sought after.
I swear, I'm hating you 'pop' rappers...
Specially the murderous youth..
You sound "corny", but I realize you're not spitting a 'kernel' a truth!
So yeah, your grassroots movement is perturbing the root..
Directing such angst and animosity; I'm determined to 'shoot'...
You vermin. Watch you squirm for the booth...
Guess you haven't learned, the recruit is serving up
high caliber Pi's at you, bro!
So if I catch em' in the radius? The family
mourning em' will have to have the Casket clothes...
Like they were worrying about the attire when he was latched below...
An asshole though.
I write tracks of flow.
On sight... make it theatrical, like a Roman Polanski show.. a rancid slow
Manson blow. Tex Watson with the syllables.
A Killer. Know... no boundaries,I'm peeling the skin off of the bones.
Anti social, so I'm often alone.
And suicidal, doctors say I'm hospital prone.
Need prescription to Zoloft, as I walk in my home.
That's where the obstacles roam--
around, like they're lost little souls, that float around like the black dots in my ocular zones...!!!!!
Wow, relax Celph; does writing a track help?
In fact, no. I'm spineless.. cerebral intact though...
Which is ironic, cause with rap, bro? I'm taking the "back" road.
Like I'm looking for that hole... in the ground...
No use in controlling it now..
Yeah...the omen's around...
St. Nicholas ... is Caucasian's fucking ridiculous.
Just think of this: Hebrew. Yeah, we knew!
And yet, we think it's crazy Tom Cruise's talking about Xenu.
As religions fight for historical accuracy.
Based on stories written ages ago. Basically pages
of blatant statements that go:
"Two of every animal on Noah's arc"... Red Sea
thrown apart. Napoleon Bonaparte.
What do you know's art?
Socrates, Aristotle, Plato's a start...
Back to Galileo and the heliocentric...
Yeah, I MC... but to me, we see history's
a key to opinion, with feelings against it...
Penny for a thought when what I'm seeing is cents less..
We believe with a vengeance.
Figuring religion is the key to the entrance.
Different varying forms, feeding a death-wish...
Charles Bronson bar toxin.
Shadow boxing with my entity, wasn't meant to be.
Darkness, the shroud of doubt that's resenting me.
But I learned that in Middle School...
so it's Elementary, mentally, to tell me what's meant to be.
Like hell. I write like the white cells, fighting infection..
Fucking keyboard actors lacking all 'type of direction'...
This microphone session?
No hype. I'm contesting... in the booth,
like a confession, while trapeze walking virgin territory
for a 'tighter' connection...

It's just... harder to stop myself, then come off of the top... whatever. Hip Hop endeavor... Quicker than the wrist watch, n' lever... locked on the storage locker of Hip Hop, forever.

Body weakened, no recourse.
Yeah, blam' em' indeed.
They got no stamina, so man... I proceed.
1000 words, no cameras are seen.
Kids are all flash anyway. Amateur seeds....
Lightning in a bottle.... yeah, Thor...
n' the hammer's siezed... a Demi God when the pen's on...
the canvass.
Megatron.... faggot, with Mega Man's set of arms.
And Astro Boy's blasting ploys. Get that ass destroyed.
Train of thought; every track enjoyed.
Luggage of rappers in it, I'm packing noise.
Breaking decibel switches. Out of this world, pressing the distance.
Messages instant -- taneous to the text in this, wishing
Extraterrestrial's would test it, bro.
Lesson learned. They wouldn't. Mastered the arts.
A Picasso at rapping, but the Plato of philosophy, plastering charts.
A great, casted the arc.... after the flood
splitting the Red Sea passage apart... like THAT THERE'S A START...
Ha.. no Tablets, or marks.
No, no burning bushes. No. No learning goodness. No.
No wording, just a soul merchant controlled, being his own person.
Microphone thirsting.
Fuck rappers tho. They don't have to know.
My attack. Shit's so tactful though. Taciturn... I turn the tables
far as you cats are concerned.
Totally uninspired to kick it. I require a distance
more higher than a pilot wishing to fly his plane up to the sky.... with...
Opey inside of that bitch... and Tax Mastery
Oh, my bad... whatever his name's now.. I'll get it when the plane's down.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4k5pBYR0B34

You hot? You're lion -- should've took your fucking
neck n' put a mane around. Turn your your upside down smile
180 degrees so it ain't a frown...
Got the Satanic Crown...
what... St.Nick crown? My presence of inflicting pain is profound.
And you'll get a red nose, if you say I'm a clown.
Throw the lower torso of your bitch down a river and watch the Labia drown..
Then kick the unborn baby around...
Pull its FUCKING brain from the ground...
while it's having his last breaths, n' then laugh
as I project it at fucking stonewall, like a Crash Test.
Collapsed chest.. with my foot directions all over its fucking site
like it's MapQuest. I'm talking: A foot size, The brand, the type, and my address.
And then. THEN! I get a conscious like, "Let the lad rest"...
Sorry for that.. if you were offended by the bars that I rap.
It's just... harder to stop myself, then come off of the top... whatever.
Hip Hop endeavor...
Quicker than the wrist watch, n' lever... locked on the storage locker of Hip Hop, forever.
Yeah, the 90's.... and I'll stop it here. So... not to fear.
I'm a rocketeer. Hip Hop's here!

My scheme's been lavish, a dream boat of themes float... Go right for an MC's throat and squeeze till I've seized hope... Too small; how can you see through that wee scope? Keynotes... I breeze and give life where the trees won't...

They acknowledge the skill in these... intricate patterns
and think to themselves why the simplest difference is challenging...?
Well, more than likely because despite being buzzed... I'm a drunkard who beats the schematics
So they try to read through the status... and couldn't agree it was average...
My scheme's been lavish, a dream boat of themes float...
Go right for an MC's throat and squeeze till I've seized hope...
Too small; how can you see through that wee scope?
Keynotes... I breeze and give life where the trees won't...
Destined to build the impression of will...
So they newcomers can question the intellectual feel...
It's like... a theater for the mind for what's left on the reel...
Where the audience doesn't stay till the rest of the film...
I've learned to adapt... romancing with linguistics, the words I attract...
confirm what they lack... I quantum leap over the vertical gap..
Yeah... so fuck the technique if it ain't practiced...
Or they're trying to flip it over the same axis...
Ha... never mind what they've attempted, it's done...
They've resented it. Come, to be much more resentful of them...
That... ideal that sets them apart from the rest of the art...
Finish what they were destined to start... makes em' even less of a mark...
now... leg up, pulling the bark down... expose the tree stump...
The wall ain't safe anymore; I'm hoping Humpty jumps...
You ever heard that life wasn't a fairytale, right?
But it's cool... I take aerial flight, when I carry this mic...
Turn the immediate area to a burial site...
For these imbeciles, while they stare at their stripes...that's the arrogance...
The... "We, as Americans" speech, reaching for terrorists...
A generation of youth being raised, don't know where the parents is...
Laura Kipnis wrote an article on marriages... so there it is...
the cynicism... disparaging a capitalist embarrassment...
ha... capital freedom from the capital meeting...
it's like a "per capita" beating of the actual meaning... f'real...
asleep at the wheel... see if you can speak to the shield...
while your feet is on the acceleration pedal. All you do is go...
So you should know what happens from there...
Self perception of failure, looking back in a mirror
Seeing the deprecating monuments capture an era...
of slobs, lacking a fairer accurate bearer
of tactics to clear up Syria's actions of terror... so...
We have to come scarier... that's our America...
a massive hysteria... that caskets in there are a...
Great depiction of hate tradition, placed in fiction...
Drones, await a mission... bringing us right
back to the Watergate and Nixon... to the bait and fishing
for the snakes who have mistake the system...
But they got their late, this shit ain't up to lake condition right now..

Talk to the crowd about the gospel locked in the style... And pass through the masses like it's gossip around...

My mental is... gone... when the pencil's is drawn
the elements of instrumentals beyond ones own potential, to dawn...
That's me... I breath through the beat, no need to repeat
the process... linguistics of dialect when they're speaking nonsense...
To deep for the weak subconscious... they think they're dreaming it...
Blows up in their face if they ever attempt on reading it...
The inception of the workaholics, sitting in a dim lit room...
Like Well Versed, kicking wisdom to
Anyone who's out there to listen... n' shit, their ears are peaked...
Sitting at the pier, unique... lyrics smear the veranda...
Talk to the crowd about the gospel locked in the style...
And pass through the masses like it's gossip around...
The possum is now... hanging off that tree branch too low...
Eyes on the prize, but his rise for it's too slow...
But he was moving, wasn't like it was a stand still...
Overconfidence complex, standing on an anthill... yeah...
I hold twice my weight in decisive fate...
Numbers on the back, like a license plate... showing what I write, awake...
Just imagine what I think of when sleeping?
I'm like a Agent Orange, Bubonic Plague, n' walking off to the deep end
But not for long, huh? Go ahead, take it...
Life's what you make it. That's why there's so shallow...
Wanted the riches and even pictured themselves in it...
But that's a lie they made up - residual self image...
I don't know, what more can be said about this lie still?
I don't believe in anyone more than stories they felt..
to pose as ideal... and yet, we work and we work...
Going berserk... mentally, but on the surface level nobody's hurt...
They don't want to see that fourth wall fall down...
They'd rather leave it up and portray it all in the media...
Social class getting greedier... this business outlook's
Wikipedia... public access to those who know the facts are exposed...
Delicate flower, go and capture a rose...
Broke father didn't tackle his goals...
Going after em' hoes, n' after the show's over?
What more can be done?
Living outside, nothing more than a bum...
They look at us as the more fortunate one?
Like the fortune to run is getting morsels of the portions to come... nah...
A visionary is the one who can see...
the hindsight n' tell the rest who didn't wanna believe...
From the mama who needs the governments help to cover herself...
For the tuition payments and debt collectors coming for wealth...
I humbled myself... there's a stark contrast between..
the reality we see... and the reality we need...
Cause by the looks of things? It might as well be B.C
We'll never be free... it's the longevity of whatever is greed...
Your toe tag? comes with extra baggage and a penalty fee
That preference? Comes with criticism before letting you be...
Sorry... I talk a lot, but it's off the top.
Literally, the guillotine and the chopping block.
Heads will roll, and the swivels are ready...
But seriously, can we be civil already?
What's with the pillaging, killing, it's deadly madness... the world that we live in...
When there isn't enough Food for Thought to nourish the children...
They look to us and expect the world... oh, is that so?
Building blocks for those obstacles make a castle...
Out of the hassle... one of the many....
To tell you like it is, instead of being humble and friendly...

In every courageous effort, a lion is born... sewing through the fabric, I rely on the norm to adjust myself to the time being 'worn'...

Sorry, but I've lost my inspiration lately, thinking this life hates me...
Haven't been right lately...
Tried to just write, maybe these bad habits have caught up...
Maybe I'm just stifling more... maybe it's eating at my system, getting right to the core...
I mean, despite being torn between work and school
I still try to perform, seeing myself spinning in the eye of the storm...
In every courageous effort, a lion is born...
sewing through the fabric, I rely on the norm to adjust
myself to the time being 'worn'...
Tears in my eyes dry on my cheek as the inside of me
reeks, opposite of my diet physique...
I rhyme and I speak to these guys that are inspired by me...
And help em' climb to the height of their peak... but this time, I'm just weak...
So... with that being said, I apologize...
Just can't get with the modern times...
I feel lobotomized... even worse... I'm a precursor for where the bottom lies...
So sick of myself... I picture myself being insisted for help...
in which I won't get for myself... self-medicate...
through an anesthetic state... head awake... sitting in my bed, it's late...
or early... 1 AM in the morning, , my heart...
is beating abnormally, warning me of deformities...
Yeah... heard it loud in clear, my intestinal linings crying "Get me out of here"...
But I can't help it.
I'm so damn selfish. As I stand, helpless.
Waiting. For the doctors to take me in as a patient...
Picture my family staring back at me - grim is their faces...
Guess it relates back to the social awkwardness and limited placement...
Malcolm in the Middle... yet the eldest of my 3 brothers
Suffering inner turmoil, can't even talk to each other...
But I was to be the man in the situation and pan it out...
Seemed like I didn't know the first thing to what a man's about...
I rambled about and loss a vital relationship there...
In further away we grew in that family cycle, making it weird...
Only real relationship I have is with my parents...
But fuck, I'm so embarrassed to speak... that they can hear my hindrance
in there, the defeat... the uncertainty that's working me...
Peaking behind the curtain screen... looking back at them, nervously...
Bounded to my own descent, but these words are free...
to fly as high as they like in the air, up there where a bird should be...
Even as I write this now? I feel the pain
that I gotta hold back... because my fans shouldn't know that...
They should see a strong role model, with positive feelings...
A man that bares his soul risks looking like he's soft...
So, despite being lost... I have to say that I'm found...
And if I say I teared up, I follow it up with "I was playing around..."
However, reality will eventually show...
And aide the process of events to help me mentally grow...
This is me - you either like it or hate it...
The good, the bad, and the ugly of what my life has created
Since the day I was born, I was shy... didn't say much
and it was hard to hold conversations with people
This bravado was painted up...
Seems like it ain't enough to be me I gotta play as tough...
Like I completely made it up...