| I use a vain tube and drain you, leave a painful stain through
|
| To the angle it came through, flames grew and left a birth rain out in plain
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| view
|
| The verbal threat they ain’t heard of yet, no telling how wet your shirt’ll get
|
| Decapitate you and empty out your turtleneck
|
| My obsession to be great sparks earthquakes
|
| Irate the judge after the battle 'cause I wasn’t satisfied winning first place
|
| I feed on atoms and molecules and operate on fools
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| Who don’t follow rules with the same ancient tools that the scholars use
|
| We can let our thoughts wrestle
|
| Ya chest’ll bust and after all they’ll find is a verse nestled in a gutted
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| vessel
|
| I supernaturally tackle dreams, stood alone and shackle teens
|
| And by 19 I sprouted pterodactyl wings
|
| The toxins locked in my doctrine chop skin like a crock spin
|
| And mock men until they drop like stock options
|
| Kill paragraphs with orgasmic compounds
|
| I’m not Jesus but I fed multitudes with four verbs and one noun
|
| Wow, you susceptible to unaffectable
|
| Methods that skips steps and fast forwards the inevitable
|
| Triggers on weapons pull till your naked’s full
|
| Of unacceptable geometrical wounds that are non-correctable
|
| My skill pinnacle amounts to the highest number math can count to
|
| Which is infinite and all I let was an ounce through
|
| I throw a turbulent word at ya
|
| Unearthing ya with circular inertia that’s certain to murder the perjurer
|
| Abnormal, we bomb your ear with abnormal wordplay
|
| Until the drum will click at your brain like a survey
|
| It hit your hypothalamus after the third day
|
| And stimulate you with an obscene absurd way
|
| I defeated the speed of his reading with a _____ conceitedness
|
| That enters pregnant wombs and switches the fetuses
|
| I start fiending for carrageenans and ejaculate the rarest semen
|
| Each phrase that I’m dreaming has a pair of meanings
|
| In each meaning has seven interpretations
|
| And all seven interpretations come with eleven explanations
|
| Filled with multiple situations and parables that telepathically carry you
|
| Through the depths of my mental geographical map for you
|
| To dissect and decipher for one rhyme
|
| I have to write a thousand word pieces to accurately define every one line
|
| Extract Fahrenheit from sunlight
|
| And live the life for ten 100 year old individuals all in one night
|
| My Para-digits sparks a collision with Doppler precision
|
| With eyes closed, I still got binocular vision
|
| I hate they ever recorded ya, my voice is a orchestra
|
| That tortures ya until a halo sits to the north of ya
|
| The vociferous G who explicitly disconnects your ethnicity
|
| And baptises you in a pool of electricity
|
| My words are prescribed for sick MCs like medicine
|
| My side effects include legions that burn skin and melt skeletons
|
| And swollen tongues, collapsed lungs, germs that breed and start traveling
|
| And pack the bloodstream with non-retractable pathogens
|
| I’m blasting feminine and masculine and pillaging the illegit
|
| With tyrannous polysyllabic killer spit
|
| Force your spirit to divorce ya
|
| My brain tissue gets damaged then it’s rebreeded by atmospheric moisture
|
| You see my face in your speculum, vertebrate have collected 'em
|
| Then the next second I’m recycling your requiem
|
| Abnormal, we bomb your ear with abnormal wordplay
|
| Until the drum will click at your brain like a survey
|
| It hit your hypothalamus after the third day
|
| And stimulate you with an obscene absurd way
|
| Abnormal (x12) |