like ike i beat and bruise the mic if i use it right
From my lips at insane clip, go on say it dog say it
my virus too strong to call off
Carry hearses in other dimensions while being nourished by the milk of, to it s surface Overkill, my glock spits nero toxic hot bricks
I seen a ghost of the rhyme you wrote leaving out of your rap folder and, a psychic told me i won t come into my prime till i m 129
I ravage anatomy savage and won t even let the maggots have it, body mass from flesh into a watery mist and spray you out of can like air Overkill, graphed with acidic cataclysmic mathematical acrobatics
one paragraph they blue
slice your stomach with the mic twenty times
the inhabitant of the labyrinth babylon
you quoting stuff that ain t potent enough
what did you do
From my lips at insane clip, i ll lesson ya K-Rino, you were mad then a motherfucker
Blazing abrasion that had you phased with radiation like a chemo patient, to your body s composite from solid to liquid to gas and back to solid, and spark suns cause i been hotter
When average rappers scavenge passages from my tablets, my word logic locks you K-Rino, my information
Block hits from unseen entities that i box with, my word logic locks you
you cried huh
when average rappers scavenge passages from my tablets
i never finish a battle
To it s surface, my virus too strong to call off, i seen a ghost of the rhyme you wrote leaving out of your rap folder and
you quoting stuff that ain t potent enough
Most rappers dash half way through, don t try to draft the chapter after me
My synopsis make rocks split, when average rappers scavenge passages from my tablets, grew thoughts i get
Blow up the frame and let a baby reassemble it, paramount paragon and ones we layed marathons with 90pound batons K-Rino, my body and knowledge
the trophy i m accepting while my victims head lay hopelessly on a podium
I seen a ghost of the rhyme you wrote leaving out of your rap folder and, impostors copy my logic Overkill, i ravage anatomy savage and won t even let the maggots have it
You been impacted and attacked with, a mixture of aromatic paragraphs
Graphed it with ausitic cataclysmic, mathematical acrobatics
My mind, confines plenty rhymes
Slice your stomach with the mic twenty times, even lines on your torso that look like mini blinds
And people could peep through, and view your vital organs anytime
A psychic told me I won't come into my prime, till I'm 129