raps,new artist is back,strapped 2 my ears wit pens n paper when my rhymes attack,continue goin like i got a energizer battery stuck in my back,exploitin da facts,dat half da writers here r whack,n got ghost writer's writin they tracks,but im in 4 da adreneline so keep yo platinum records n plaques/
words become puppets on strings when i manipulate da flow,like forks in da road,i fuck wit da boards like i stuck my dick in da floor,stick live wires in ya bellybutton 2 shock ya inner ambiligal cord,n cut off ya toes usin cutting boards,my rhymes slice through ya knuckles when ya punches meet my sword/i sucker punches,when i mix verbs n oxymorons n adjectives in poetic brunches,slit personality,n da ability 2 switch my flows u should peep my functions,strickly 4 da people who like playin wit buttons,this my lyrical technoligy,programmed like da best computer's 2 sweep da industy/
sumtin like da matrix,playin musical mind tricks,da 1 n e mic would worship,ya stats droppin like da stock market causin personal hardships,im bad luck so i recomend not bein da one u split polls wit,bottom line,b4 ur life ends up on flatline i suggest im da 1 u shouldnt fuck wit

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