I be the, mathematician with a stack of writtens
rhyme patterns in an algorithm, calculated anarchism
candy flippin in the cancer ridden land of britain
maggots nibblin through the fabric of my tacky linen
rash decision for you pack of kittens
lackin wisdom if you plan to spit with anythin but pacifism
my clans efficiently blowin up like a Palestinian
so its masochism if you even think a-clashin’ wid em
thats the difference, between me and these whack bres
my beats'll attack snares these people just clap theirs
feelin cheesy when trap blares in night clubs,
might just slice up guys like white dust
cut into fine lines crushed and depleted
sero tonin-rises just to repeat this cycle
I’ve breathed this foul mix of oxygen
atomic lungs trust watch my scowl fix the rotten sun
claws caught in the wall, my paws scorching a portion of draw, scrawling a formula morbid with thoughts, author of raw stories i brawl when i walk forward to war, caution to all, orphaning all sorts when i talk, sort of a dork, matts a sheep in wolf's clothing, JCB, tractor beam'll pull hos in, smash the scene im bulldozing, its demolition, heretic with epic diction while you sweat and listen, serendipidous evidence when im shedding writtens, to step on riddims like a kennel full of slender kittens, best decision is to step back, start doing less crack, ket smack, mcat prat got the best yats hollerin, check matts proper grim, honour him the one that got ya neck fat proper thin…cos you be nodding your head, im an obvious pest blazin up the crop in excess im blessed, bing bong spliffs…now I gotta spend a bar when i wanna buy my kinger pack, makes me wanna hit a yat with a cricket bat, Sniffing chaplin and thats all im really bothered with, politrickin novices
dirty as a doner dish, gotta give bollocks in a way that is evil im stayin illegal and blazin up an 8th o the diesel and so what?
I aint bothered if you think that im nang, ive been sniffin the chang ever since shit iran was hittin fan, just know I aint a miserable man so pay attention cos this isn’t a rant, it’s a scripture ive planned to show im lyrically intricate and skilled as a champion poet that can scribble to jams, these battlecats wanna diss because I choked getting pissed with my fam, when all they talk about is fingerin nans, go figure it man, I aint quite worked it out, dirty south representer, find me spittin flames like a burning house, herbal drought in chelt, makes me wanna turn to murder now but when my life is down I put the work in til I turn it round