I travel through time to murk niggas and master rhymes. Lyrically balance, and any challenge I conquered wit lines. I’ll stop and chop your thoughts, exhaling any rhyme or lyrical preference till you mind turns pail. Impale this true incompetent one with words of “HOLY” cause I drunk it all and you only took a sip of the “GRAIL”. Zeet can speak rhymes, but he’ll never speak lines (think about it), his arms too short to box wit God or even reach mine. My words will shut this hoe’s mouth, and take him out of misery
And have him seeing nothing but dark like “BLACK HISTORY”. Viciously, I’m a tear your rhymes like bullet through glass, and murk this nigga like “Forest Gump” wit “bullet in ass.” Freedom at last, won’t be none cause this nigga just got his heart hurt. I’ll splatter his rhymes on walls and call it artwork.

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Grim