I am here to tell you of the trials.

Of the lies, implemented beguiles.
Those lacking, to be properly identified.
Society on a repeat like it was ******* Riverside.

Here to say I ain't got nothing to prove
lest you get delirious with the smooth words that you use.

Now I'll say the rhymes will get serious,
like you just got lost in a mysterious experience.

But I'm not saying that you gotta believe, coz son I make a career of trashing mc's.

Bigger--
than your brain stem follicles.
Now I've got you and so I'm finna follow you, into
decadent limelight.
Into,
the rhyme
just to prove I have got nothing to hide.

Rapping in an interim, a slap to the backside.

Super-sonic:
plastic gum-trees.
Heating it up to over 9000 degrees.

Your mind I'm gonna beat up
scrap monastics
rubber-johnny, or such as broken elastic.

Gimme the bone-knife, coz I'm gonna bereave
that boredom, of yours like swiss cheese.

You see--
I'm a superman 'lead,
so get ready for the critical sieve.

I come as smoke
and rap
this rhyme~
with raspy voice and anime streams
through sleepless nights.

Gonna take your
head and there's a chance

That I might
curb-stomp or filet it.
Maybe even give your *** a transplant.

Turn it 'round, and
turn it to clay, and I
don't mind.

Do you know what I mean?
Bumming around, roasting mc's.

Your rhyme dictionary
got nothing on 'deez,
for you see
I was simply never out to please.

My words, don't worry, I won't shove into your mouth
An unloaded gun pointed
north or south,
and I run my mouth even with nobody around.

And with texts I flex,
to create a veritable meltdown.

i come here to roast the mc's,
so you'd better get ready for me

The bricks,
mortar of the castle.
Nothing in my mind is going to be bashful,
when dealing with you...
You're like a plush shade of pastel;
like a car without grease on the axle.

Now you go and write some words so my retort can make some some common sense.

It's like I'm talking to myself on vyvanse.