2day is March 24th, 2005 at 8:30 p.m.
back 2 da basics tru......my very own 'Keyed Impressions'
the only chance of you touchin' a belt is if your hands on my waist...
but then...your stance would get knocked and like clocks you'd have hands on the face...
staple your cranium to your anus...you droppin' thoughtless shit...
flip the scripts when i spit...my ultra ~ sound packs a force,i'll abort this bitch...
i'll contort your lips like gymnasts and failed dismount sticks...
hunger to fight?...my soul dinners serve black eyes...my side ~ dish out hits...
stick my notepad to knife tips,my rhymes are on point...
i'm causin' an uproar...charged for crime spits,my lines (lion's) in the joint...
nail gun your tounge to your gums...so you can taste my sharpness...
can't trace my espionage carnage?...it's basic...you facin' darkness...
yo i'm known to show love and govern lost angels...
but i'll terminate Arnie cause the governments fatal...
watch me...shove cement in my naval,i got a strong gut feelin'...
i'm feelin' weight around my waist,my appetite for beef is increasin'...
you can't cure my sick crews sickness and it's risky to lure a purist...
my verse will fuck you over swiftly like a Swedish tourist...
words attack like bad pills watch the verbs kill your thrills of pure bliss...
secured this...get smothered by my clan we'll stand above 'em like village trees...
stay heated like degrees we'll break recoverin' injuries...like defence on casts...
leave you forgettin' the time spent healin' like amnesia patients who've lost sense of the past...
i see dents in your tasks...drill a hole thru my skull and pour boilin' water on the brain...
yo what i'm sayin' is my thoughts be raw...
my talk is pure...start gift wrappin' my precense my rappin' gift has surprises in store...
nothin' surprises me more...when you flickin' thru websites and peep other cats rhymes,realisin' they yours...
aint nothin' surprisin' at all...when i shatter and break all biters jaws...
my uprisin' be war...i've walked battlefields and the proof is etched on my soul...
born with a pad and a pen...for decades the chalk outlines on sidewalks have sketched the death toll...
ima catch my breath yo...~ as if ~...hands patrol my airways...
get me heated and they'll take control like controllers in consoles controllin' 2K's...
my new ways inspire the young similar to crew praise...
and i'm known to stick around and raise a fever just like flu stays...
i pat 'em down at break neck speed,and flee,before any dawg gets an itch for me...see...