verbage
 

collision with precision replace all old renditions//
assimilate the mandate of overgrown magistrate,
words incise like 10 hot knives send you off to quick demise//
i despise the foolish guise of guys who live like spies
cetrifigal force the winner of course this game aint a sport//
retort, extort report but you fell short.
enter the dimension, expect to collect a pension//
cause you retired from the fire when i give you this suspension
i offer you extension, still you can't learn your lesson//
dyin while you tryin too stressed out from all the tension
decompose in cheap clothes, a thorn without a rose//
still you thumb your nose at the golden prose that i compose
allow me trans digretion, into another session//
i need a quick concession befor you emitt confession

ups

i thought u had mad vocab but shit u mad no god damn sense.

ups?