Witnesser of many acts of assassin's,
And massecists sicker than mutliple molasses's,
He comes back to hit up mansion with,
A rich man that once did bad to him,
"Answer this", the man started asking him,
"How come all of a sudden you want to be the pacifist?"

Sitting back watching the victim come closer to my realm...

"Surely you can't commit to acts of this!"
Assassin with an axe in hand, ready to slash at him,
As if he was cancerous, the man at disadvantages,
Wraps him in bandages to then manage,
Blood flow, his head rushes, as blood spurts,
His tongues hurts, but on faster he presses,

Both are in shock, both are mine...

And still faster, out of control,
A powerful glow, the soul,
Out of the hole,
The dead man's heart beats out of control

The strife is over, there lives are over,
They're both mine, they're flesh and bone is my ambrosia,
Your now my soldier, your life's my dosia,
You're all mine, you're flesh and bone is my ambrosia

Now unto the monks of the Shaolin,
I'm smiling, as death's steps is coralling,
An endless abyss of annihaling,
While I'm riling, seeds to compile in,
A maelstrom of souls, up a mile in,
Howling in pain, no one to save ...
But both sides are my assailants,
Anybody, I'm digging the hole to your grave,
Showin a page of my book in this chapter of dying,
This image of who's going to blame,
But now who hears laughter and sighing,
While I'm sticking your soul in a cage,
You're friendless, held captive on an island,
But also endless pain, snowed in a cave,
Surrounded by helplessness and crying,
Of lives I've grown to attain,
Lives are lives, all the quotas the same,
I'm merciless, struck by selfish and blinded.
The Eye of Death.

The strife is over, there lives are over,
They're both mine, they're flesh and bone is my ambrosia,
Your now my soldier, your life's my dosia,
You're all mine, you're flesh and bone is my ambrosia

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I rhyme better than who rhymes better than you