Words entering my cranium, powerful, lyrical mind like it's packed with uranium
And this is what occurs every single moment that I breathe
It's a talent that I can spit these magnificent magical words with ease
Like dust in the breeze, you better believe, that I'll leave
A rapper in a body bag, yeah I'm probably mad, no I'm definitely mad
Twisted, I'm twisted in the way that I formulate a loaf of lyrics for you b**hes wanting bread and riches
I'm Pica**o painting pictures, & my van won't gogh so I put an ear to the air like I lost my stitches
Listening for a sign that I'm not all alone, but solitude seems to follow me like a garden to a gnome
This is my life, to make rhymes, but sometimes there's just strife, like I don't know what to do and I gotta think twice
Before I make a decision, about creating an incision in my forehead so that more words can fit in
ThenI fall & hit rock bottom like my balance id forgotten, but my pen hits the ceiling
Like I injected penicillin, into my heart just to try & get some real feelings
But nah it didn't work, I'm still a jerk, but I'm in time for the turps, turpentine in reverse
Down my throat it burns like a f**ing hearse, in a furnace, cremation wasn't ordered but I put the coffin in the flames on purpose
& you know why? Because right now I'm f**ing nervous
Cos I talked sh** to the body, of ricky bobby in the lobby, and I don't want him to come back as a zombie, and eat me like some kebab meat
Now thats obscure, but I'm not sure, if this rhyme will settle the score, between me and Thor
Because the gods and I were having a little argument in the parking lot of Heras apartment, over which motherf**ing lyricist would be in charge of the rapping department
Of course I submitted myself as the main candidate, this created a bit of pandemonium and led me to agitate
All of the gods at once, & as it turns out, all of the gods are c*nts
And apparently I don't fit the description, of a doctorate with a prescription to verbally rippem', acidic verses to leave your soul tripping
But ah well I guess I'll have to find another way, another path, another day, until I'm noticed as a rap phenomenom anomaly. Militant Muhammad Ali, upper cut in a hurry, verbal jab will make you scurry. And I'll keep swinging hooks, spitting books, of words until the fights done
sh** I'm getting a Vision of the future,,,
Oh what a f**ing surprise, I won