V1 I am the epitome of mentally fit lyrical wizardry/ Fear the ability, making miracles appear to you vividly/ With an affinity within me willing to deal every enemy penalties/ You’re over the line, cause you crossed me like symmetry/ You’re that pussy, cat that’s finicky like Morris/ Serving ya’ plate, but every inning you’re scoreless/ Making ya’ day like Doris, I’ll put you away for good like storage/ My formula’s more of a sure thing than a whore It’s:/ Shorten your life-span with a verse and a chorus/ I’m certain to floor kids, the minute I rip the curtains before us/ Asserting the forces of nature, burning ya’ forest/ Even hurling sterling performers twirling towards the camera lenses of discerning tourists Observing the horrors, as they take it all in like porous surfaces/ Spurting these murderous lyrical scourges/ Cause I’m a purist and you’re TRIFE life is purposeless/ Just give it up, like slutty mannequins, you’re a fake fuck/ It seems you lost all your sense like Helen Keller going bankrupt/ I’m pitch shifting, making your facial display change up/ Detaching your superfluous pieces like pay stubs/ You didn’t take nuff precaution/ Stepping to Tonedeff is like calling out Irish motherfuckers in Boston/ I’m hunting you down for goodwill, my game is out there/ You couldn’t rock in your grandma’s house chair/ My syntax rearranges your flesh like skin grafts/ The odds of you winning are slimmer than Ally McBeal on Slimfast/ You’re like them other actresses/ I’m tighter than 4 virgins in solitary confinement with hymens as THICK as rubber mattresses/ With asses split to make a perfect fit- like a cock in you/ I only play your shit to remind me what not to do/ I’m executing verses you thought were impossible/ From the JUMP, you were merely a hoppable obstacle/ Stick ya’ like Popsicle’s, in lines you stand in back of me/ On tracks, you couldn’t bust a nut while a slamming a hammer in the Planters factory/ I’m seedier that your papi, you’re a flower, son/ Your hour’s come in a plastic bag, just watch me devour some/ Your delusions of power’s done, cause each and all believe you need to fall/ So, I be torching up ya bleeding walls like Seton Hall/ Deleting beats and knocking your skull into a handy coffin/ So don’t be shocked when you’re the man on the moon like Andy Kaufman/ You’ll be deader than Bambi’s mom when/ The brush went up in smoke, you’re shit’s cheesier than the state of Wisconsin/ Yo, fate is a consonant/ Cause, “AE!!”, I-O-U nothing, you’ve just been ‘disem-voweled’ as I’ve been rocking shit/ You know the difference between you and a dog’s life?/ Yo, Eventually with training a dog’ll be nice.
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