my pen a blunt instrument
dripped n bitter gall
all other mcs are bricks in the wall
Crack the vault door opens, a madman strolls in,full of gall and bars golden.
Pocket full of stolen c-notes, spit molten,
who’s holdin’,frog legs for the cauldron
Snatch your mic hand, twist it like origami crane,lame brain mcs must stay in your lane.Write a whole opera in the margins of your fame,bars so sharp it cut the metal on your chain.
we live in the syntax, this is a grim facts, get cha chin strapped,raps steeped in metaphor,
brace for impact.
or get ya wig bent back
then i hijack your 74
silent like ninjas,rhyme on the mics like fire on embers
before yall fall i shout timber
club closed to all nonmembers
you can’t come in just like sinners
remember
middle fingers to my haters
im sorta like the lone ranger
Served with a side of dangergirls caught the rizz
mcs caught the vapors.ya stuck on the first floor wit no elevators,
Off-kilter rhythm, rhymes diagonal,Bars too methodical, flow unstoppable.
every stanza like a letter from the cosmos,
invite a wack nigga for brunch feed em hot toastrappers Talk slow got your rhymes from costco
chop Carve a whole in ya face…gotsta go…
Hit the yo - barefoot cloak - made of notebooksrhymes stop the show, like joe when he throw hooksaxe on the mantle,
too sharp to handle,Bars drip steady like
a lit wax candle
clips thrown
riff get ya hip blown
flip his boat, quotes travel like a wrench thrown.
if he dies he dies
i got some russian shit for ‘em
but if i dont drink and drive how the fuck ima get home
if i dont drink and drive how the fuck ima get home
