[Benefit]
My microphone has grown out of my wrist bone
I've lost control of my vocal tone, spitting this sick poem
I'm possessed by hip-hop's delivering spirit
And I fear it cause my hand is constantly scribbling lyrics
I can't eat, or even sleep in my bed
Tormented cause a beat will always creep in my head
I can't listen to a drum loop without timing it
Can't hold a conversation without rhyming it
I walk down the street and my brain's known to rattle
Cause I'm thirsty as hell for a mother f**ing battle
I have no TV, already broken three
Cause I turn it on to see another whack emcee
I have lyrics in my head that always stop and then go
I constantly daydream about rocking a show
Writing rhymes all my life as it begins and ends
Broke as f** cause I'm always out purchasing pens
[Blitz]
I'm the an*lyst, observe all angles of existence
The last dime in the dollar, completing the sentence
The ninety other pennies tossed through the wormhole
Worthless as the b**h dancing naked on the pole
I've seen twenty different worlds, at least eight dimensions
A veteran amateur, with pens instead of pensions
Who's the next worthless soul ready to stand up
Thinking they got the Holy Grail but they're sippin' the false cup
Lately I've been spotting, on the words of the rotton
With my looking gla**, and hands to the upper cla**
Groups of blinded ones gather at a steeple
I label it a meeting place for meaningless people
Coalitions are hard rocks living without purpose
I sarcastically attack with a woman word circus
A surface of slippery ice, a dangerous crack
In the path of the ones who walk with their minds slacked
[Lawson]
Verge in the microphone, you begin to panic
Because I'll make the crowd seem the like the Atlantic
That your style is Frantic
It's so whack the store banned it
Had people covering their ears saying I can't stand it
My style is so fly you can't land it, I bring the supply because people
Demand it
My rhymes stand alone like they were abandoned
Three hundred and sixty degees my CD's outstanded
It's so smooth it feels like it was sanded
Figures of speech make me smile like you were uncandid
I'll pa** you like you were handed
When I come with lines that punch like a fist
Taking your microphone so fast cracking the bones in your wrist
Seperating you from me like mist
Eliminate the competition, by spitting from every dimension mentioned
Benching emcees for flinching as I build up tension
Clenching the number one spot
Leaving your body to corrode and rot (to corrode and rot)
[Rek]
Pa** me the mic, I'll ignite like the birth of a constellation
Spit rhymes without hesitation, poetic devestation
Hip-hop's my love and recreation
Causing me to rise like elevation, syllables slice causing decappitation
I hold the mic tight enough for strangulation
Getting technical like a capotilist algorythm is my precision
Broad angle like pereputal vision
Code like red, I drop lines like a clumbsy cokehead
Judge like Dredd, the countdown to the twelve hour has begun
I'm the one, the chosen son, On an odyssey like Space 2001
A new day has begun and the weight on my shoulder outweighs a ton
And always when I rhyme, something wicked this way comes