"I shattered a million pens, scripting these gems,
Carving my truth with ink-stained limbs."

"Come, take a look—if you dare,
You can’t begin to comprehend the lair,
Where a battalion of phantoms reside,
Drifting like whispers in atoms inside."

"This may sound insane, but
The Mage hydroplanes as he
Spits profane propane.

Oh, how they now look at me a certain way
When I display just a little of the knowledge that I've gained.
But off stage, for minimum wage,
What calcified the pineal gland in your brain
Gets removed and tossed away.

Then, for 40 nights and 40 days
In a cave under the Mastaba plain,
The Sage used a lyrical array
Of radio waves to wash your DNA.
Then, like clay, he shaped you whole again."

"I sit down, create sound, so profound,
I soar above the clouds—wow,
How you like me now?"

I have just enough time to tell you, there's no time left.

From a dark quasar star,
the White Beard Gods of Asgard commune with me from afar as Light Emerald Mirage Aviators to teach me how to spit these bars