I lift the directive, with every perspective inch.. Got Octogenarian descendants suspended in my thoughts, so the older generation has lent its gifts, for lack of a better word, to my potential, it's gravy.. my mental shifts off the resonation of every suspenseful wince..

Yeah, roll up in a mall full of shoppers n' take my clothes off...
tripping like a hippy overdosed a bottle of Zoloft..
I'm a fucking nut case, shit, I'm sure Mr.Peanut wants his monocle back..
demonic, have to balance it out for you fucks by spitting comical rap..
I've learned to fight fits of depression with written suggestion
persuading the global media to put their iconic figures into witness protection...
Back and forth with the panic attacks, exacerbated my anger
to the point, I dangle ye from an noose; you hang from an angle, bra..
I've learned a lot in life, not being a sucker's one of them...
The second's not to fall into second, be first... draw a connection...
My Silver Lining's Playbook - a flawless projection
of writing vividly, so you can explore the perspective, for your inspection..
Going over it many times, kid's writing is weak...
All of sudden a new generation's pushed back the standard of what's tight n' unique...
So you got these Baby Bloomers who're finding their peak..
Have yet to be seen as introspective, n' are admired for their work..
That logic is misdirected.
Kill off the garden variety like a disinfectant..
You're only old news cause western culture merits a certain look-ism to make it..
If that's absent? You're looked at as basic.
Creativeness is traded for craziness. And it's lame, the more sane it is.
Meat dress to keep fresh? or meaningful deepness..
with a seamless uniqueness, objective to how substance is seen on your TV screen sets?
Yeah.... I'm able to adopt different agendas
Because at least my body of work transcends the obviousness of camaraderie, perched..
on every thought. Word strong, curbing the molecular
curve on the verge of extinction... always up, let the vertical sink in..
Old school, from the emerging of Lincoln to the proverbial Sphinx and..
Determined to keep on point more than the surgical sinking his tools
into the cervical link, then...
MAYBE.. they'll finally catch my drift..
Bet it, bitch. I kicked out of my written is like, now you can fetch the shit..
I lift the directive, with every perspective inch..
Got Octogenarian descendants suspended in my thoughts, so
the older generation has lent its gifts, for lack of a better word,
to my potential, it's gravy.. my mental shifts off the resonation of every suspenseful wince..
You though? you know. Looking gayer than Bruno.
Hold you underwater, deprive you of H20.
I'm loco. The rest of you ordinary people just don't know..
..I snap? and EVERYBODY'S getting shots - 1 Hour Photo
Word to Robin William's prowess, my syllable style is..
Instrumental to how I'm killing a thousands of villagers, with the lyrical's, now it's empirical.
Here we go. ...RIGHT around like a Merry-Go.
Kevin MacLeod would be proud, he'd swear it's a miracle.

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!

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...

to wake up the spirit... ancient spheres shake in hysterics... You can see time in space hibernates in the merits Finely placed in his lyrics You wonder, in your face you're embarrassed... but recognize the traits they inherit... Is like a foundation of a new found race giving birth to a generation of parents..!!!!

(Nigga, stop rapping) No, it'll not happen!
I rock rap, and post up... like the Block Captain...
this is capital one... you take 5 after
the action begun.. but can't throw up, money...
when your whole squad is lacking in funds...
I doze off on Zoloft... I go 9 to 5, with no job...
A post apocalyptic nightmare when I drop and rip shit...
So it's often business... every talking witness...
Get crunched, like awesome fitness out my fiber optic distance!
Yeah... squeezing to kill...
Seeing you ride your vehicle, I jump out and put 3 in your side...
Before you see me, good bye...
I am the meaning you've believed as a lie...
A social deviant, dine with the the genius mind to feed the design breathing, inside...
HANH... You can't call it, your damn ambulance
stalling, I wait... brain over brawn, you get drawn to the gate...
So you all can debate the skill... that's fine with me
It's time to flea now, the freestyle rap you see in the mean while...
Watching the green pile, Mr. Bean style... silence is golden...
rhymes exposing the signs of every single side that's chosen...
So once you think you picked the particular one that's correct...
you can come and reflect the outlook of the complete sonning you'll get...
Son, your defective approach is expected in coach, I'm first class
the directive of most effective denotes your talent and skill of balance, f'real...
Where's the challenger, still
holding up that mallet, his will to cock it back and slam on the grill
lacks the manner of the Gallagher feel...
Right, you're Ally McBeal... light... it isn't a fair fight...
The rare type of weird to strangle the air out of your Air Nike's...
You parasites don't compare, the comparison right here's
out of the question... got a towering aggression to overpower contestants...
I mean, my lines leave the impression on the mind...
It's seen by the kind of teams who've come out of their time machines
to witness the craft... I mean, just picture a cat
who kicks it with raps with a signature tact in composure
never missing a lap, so the closure
of ever being this ill only seems so surreal, because it's compelling...
He's buzzing, discovered the intelligent species, who've developed unique themes...
From prehistoric relics and beat schemes... metronomes...
acupuncture pressure zones through instrumentals honed, to make his presence known...
enveloped a whole new language you would never know
with a clever ode, and let it go mainstream, without the help of Rosetta Stone...
C'mon man this was long planned...
You were waiting to hear it... would only paint it generic
so they common folk could understand it
to wake up the spirit... ancient spheres shake in hysterics...
You can see time in space hibernates in the merits
Finely placed in his lyrics
You wonder, in your face you're embarrassed... but recognize
the traits they inherit...
Is like a foundation of a new found race giving birth to a generation of parents..!!!!
These are the things they didn't want me to say...
They wanted me to keep quiet and speak idle to keep this ignorance on wash and repeat cycle...