His thoughts are Cryp-like, Along wit A.I. your no longer blueprint profection,
He'll show his stage-fright, Your font expresses how your stressin,
can
so he have his
his lyrics way with
He bends his words,
Cyrptic rocks throw back celtic's jerseys, Anotha reason to flick him the bird,
Comin in here, He's typin in bars cuz he's frightened by front lines,
You elite? But he'd only be accepted if he injected his name wit mine,
Your herb inflected, Look at your reflection befo ya clense the garden,
His record perfected, And my lyrics reach the space, Leave ya in stardom,
Profile shows nothing, A nobody perhaps outside of net-battling,
Discombobulate ya brain...Your thoughts resemble ya friends...Scattering!