As i spit my rhymes you know that they are too dope for you to comprehend/
They kill you with the animosity of a twenty pound pen/

I'll collapse your esophagus, lungs and pin you down with my tounge/
Your cadaver's left on the ground to sit and rot under the sun/

My saliva contains acetate, so i hack phlegm into your eyes/
You'll get apolexy, it annihilates your blood cells over time/

Anyone that wants to battle me, its like you want a death sentence/
And after your dead i'll ressurect you to become me apprentice/

Me and the Phantom Dark Disciple, spit prophecy like aristotle/
Were not prophets, but we speak the wisdom that makes u suicidal/

some shit..i wrote down last night...