Linguistics - Multiple Choice lyrics

Chorus X 1 - IQ A, we got lyrics that make you sway B, we got the illest, sickest DJ C, we got the best beats D, we're all of the above, real emcees Verse 1 - IQ Ripping it with viciousness, incisions with scissor tips A wizard, whip my magic wand on your mom's cli*oris You illiterate idiots are blowing like a bagpipe And couldn't see me with a MAG Flashlight, thats right My appetite is getting larger, hitting harder, getting smarter Than a Harvard grad who had the star, spitting darker If you can't handle the sh** go to San Francisco Manage a disco, or cruise the planet with Sisqo Just don't be sampling this flow, f** that You rugrats are getting more spins than a hubcap But you s** at rapping, I ain't sparing you You better bail out now before you need a parachute Tearin' you a new one, I know it gets embara**ing You're barely in touch and gayer than Mr. Garrison Staring into the camera trying to please the media You can't compete with the lyrical encyclopedia Chorus X 1 - IQ Verse 2 - Entity Swinging swords and axes, Writes of Pa**age Entity brings war to slack, kids who play parts I was sent to slay hearts, my sharp darts snap all on impact I bomb tectonic plates till the earth crack Your mom b'est explain how she birth wack Pa**ing genes for you to spit the worst raps, weak as f** If your brain capacity peaks its luck, your technique leak spits that s** You couldn't lay a fist on us My apostoles rip hostile from lips to tonsil We spread gospel, so awful Our trip is an artful novel that melts fossils in the brothel Even my breath is harmful Superhero-marvel, look at the sparkle in my eyes when I watch you Ready to die, yo I got you Drop the marble, hidden floors, using Marshall-Law I crack jaws 'cause I'm raw, intense like scenes from Saw My mic stand is a spleen from God, here to scream at some broads When I'm caught hid in a place, I'm lucky They let me out of the cage, against the machine like Rage... I shift the stage with earthquakes k** tracks in one take To see me its rare like undercooked steak The metaphor for me is 'scrape', when I'm set upon hate I was told to finish 'your plate' Chorus Verse 3 - Kasper My accursed cursive turns words into worse verses And serves the first person deserving in my observance In layman terms, I'm the purest, the furthest from fake I remain perfect, since birth I made it my purpose to surface and stay above ground Around the then-emcees that understand the art that I'm a part of Get cha gaurds up, cause when you least expect it You could be the next rapper Kasper just checked Come and test your sk**s I gaurantee you will not survive I apply enough pressure to pry through your mind and find whatever lies inside And use it as leverage against your defensive set of ryhmes So why would you ever think that I wouldn't prepare for battle If I'm prepared to die, look in my eyes, your can see the fire within The pa**ion that burns as the pa**ion that lives I'm as sick as they come when it comes to spittin' Off of the top or written it's just a gift I was given If its a mic ima rip it, with little or no effort My flow sounds eastern but I'm reppin' the western So don't you ever compare coast to coast Unless you dare to compare this pair of hands to your throat My grip is like slipping in a pitbull's jaw You gotta spit a full clip just to get me off, b**h Chorus X2