Keystyle type ov shit...Back up backup...cuz RAW iz in da buildin

Da hook=
I spit fire, Quick fire, Twist fire
Roll a roach from a ripped flyer
Tip toeing over ego trip wire
raw straight gangster in da game ready 2 take u HIGHER

Intermental=
Soft steppin on eggshells as hell beckons
A bed of black rose petals on my twenty second
With twenty seconds on the clock I kept many guessin
A game of death threats met with defiance
I bring stones for the riots
While the right side of the brain extends through computer science
The wise read and analyse the scrolls
Stolen souls dissolve in alcohol
Master drunken pole
A cold-hearted defence in this dungeon hole
I hold hope for the globe in a closed palm
Locked in a gold heart
Lost and emotionally charged
I chart progress
Through this pain staking process
Elimination of the grotesque (no less)
This overblown mess left grown men stressed and suicidal
Cyanide drips from the vinyl
My vital signs fade
I m trapped in a pessimist s mind-state
A frozen emotional ice age

My words form pictures
Jigsaws built from torn scriptures
A warped image
A collage of small figments
Inter-related
Creative with raw English
I walk with born sinners who talk business
Subs and permanent fixtures
Medicine man sippin elixirs
Wettin my lips and lickin the rizlas
Listening to enemy transmissions
Sittin here pickin the splinters out of my flesh
The fresh script inker
Indica stick sticky fingers
Balanced on the brink of drinking binges
While friends sink syringes into their skin
And it could all end in an instance
With no one to discipline the infants
Walking the ledge
I stay nimble as ninjas
My pen nib inches
Closer and closer
Ghosts in my dome stay closed in a coma
Crows overhead
Twisted as the trail we tred
Most failed or fled
Ended up jailed or dead
But never me
Eyes in the back of my head for any enemy
Ready for them backstabbers
Suited and booted on this black Sabbath
Truly polluted by the pain
I paint the blues on a blank canvas
We re all judged by the same standards
Saints gangsters and base heads in St Pancras
It s plain madness
My brain strains to make sense of
We blaze ten spots
This games deadlocked

Khaoz=
Deadlocked, my off da dome spits tite as Dreadlocks
i make da bed-rock, but i aint talkin no flintstones
nuthin but bones, piled up, my styles fucked
touch on my gang, we bang wit da orangatang
u cant hang lyke a chain wit no pendant, i'm independent
reliable on the mic device, foreva nyce, we roll lyke dice
roll like reels, the real feel this lyrikal big deal
---------------------i'll drop fiya for the rite price
never free, u know me, K.T, Spittin khaotic Theory
stickin head up analz so they can shit more clearly
try n get near-me, i'll have verbal shootas Tephlon clickin
niggas iz non-stickin, trippin, catch em slippin they tongue kissin
-------------------------the barrel of the nine, peep my rhymes
raws best kept secret, should ov been kept a secret
peep-it, dangerous with words, verbs? its all 2 EZ..
I get more propps than veterans, an they styll call me a ''Newbie''

Da hook=
I spit fire, Quick fire, Twist fire
Roll a roach from a ripped flyer
Tip toeing over ego trip wire
raw straight gangster in da game ready 2 take u HIGHER

__________________