My rhymes are ill, and i’m packed with an automatic
Some say I got skill, most say that you’re erratic
I got subliminal words that’ll make ya head crazy
And stop smoking herbs, it’ll leave you physicly hazy
Common and try to rage me, I’ll punch yo head mainly
So you can’t even phase me, don’t think about a baby
Shit I would’a thought you was a Paedophile
But I was lookin, and I saw it after a while
U don’t eat allot of meat, and I’m one step away from scrying*
It’s food that ur body needs, on the next step,anorexia got u dyin
And I’m not even tryin, but my punchlines make you flyin
And I’ve seen it, you’re spyin, don’t do it again, or you’ll be fryin
Cuz on this battle I’m the aftermath*, I’ma influence ya style
Cuz ya scared to rap, and in the end, I’m the one to grind



*Scrying: To see or predict the future by means of a crystal ball.
* Aftermath: the consequences of an event

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