{*scratched*} "At night, the open mic be invitin me to rhyme" {*2X*} "Open mic, I bring out that boxcutter" [Thirstin Howl III] I'm accustomed to abiding by freestyle penal code My rhymes are like long drives goin down a scenic road Taught discipline through paragraphs, walk backstreets and narrow paths My kicks were dirty and my pants sagged like I had no a**! Flippin styles that'd pioneered in the Space Age Writin your first paragraph, I'm already on my eighth page For the way you write your rhymes, I could tell you never really made grades Goin through life miserable, hatin yourself on payday A pleasant plea, Thirstin in parentheses I heard a mute man mention me to a blind woman on Vescey Street Urged to leave gats alone in memory of Pumpkin and Faster Poems Wouldn't want my moms to identify me with half the dome! A toast, with high priced Sangria Battle the best mother{f**ers} and whoever they bring here~! Long term, short durations I even put freestyle under special sk**s when submittin an application! Flows, that can't be followed by asthma patients Got a d**hwish? Here's his extension, ask for Satan The rap languages me and more, findin subjects in Singapore Impressin MC's who swore to God they had seen it all~! {*scratched*} "At night, the open mic be invitin me to rhyme" {*2X*} "Open mic, I bring out that boxcutter"