~Pyrophobia~ I'm climbing to the summit only clowning on wrong haters hungry for my plummet praying (preying) for my downfall grumbling with empty stomachs cause I'm not failing at all all I'm dropping's abundance of judgements which are just in the adjustments 😉 often I'll unlock the prize like writer's block got compromised to load a mag then cock the slide with motives glad to topple heights leaving phonies traumatized from being seen with open eyes I'm optimized to stop the lies dead in their tracks like homicide if this were a war then they'd have lost from the start ain't concerned with the score when I've got all the cards so every time I embark to fill a page with my remarks ain't shit haters get enraged making me their mark thing is they never hit always missing the target overcompensating their game which displaces their aim to ricochet bullshit away back towards wherever they play they keep throwing gas and I just laugh rocked windows crash like ... lit molotovs just hit their own glass servers down they plain brain farted every time I spit these flames they whine and cry bitch and complain claiming I'm to blame when they got engulfed within the blaze then became charred they're not fire retardant they're fire retarded dousing down their houses with combustible fluids whenever a fire is started unaware that they're the ones who've summoned the ruin that's charging into their hearts outsmarted by the truest pyrophobics ought not invite my notice the fight is hopeless when I write in lines comprised of cyclonite my rhymes explosive confounded by my pyrotechnics expounding why clowns don't get this cause ignorance won't shield against knowledge which fuels confidence not misconstrued as arrogance just honest truth of prominence. ~Justin Farrow