With concussive force, my lyrics erupt at the source to whip, rip and slash you and leave you crushed and scorched. My thoughts will engorge your mind with rhymes. You'll find in scope? Each line is dope. An incline, a slope. Positive and negative integers - a design afloat in a graph. A straight line between two points. Linear math. Enter the wrath, my interior mental path, whereas masterpieces are drafted for the stereo to blast. As a wordsmith in my craft, I must keep in balance with my talents and a firm grip on my staff. All you slick yuppies, I'm a real sick puppy, to the taste, I'm quite a bit yucky. You feel legit, lucky and would like to touch me roughly? Well, things will end abruptly and the opposite of lovely. In other words ugly, trust me including your death, I wouldn't put that above me, but will admit it was me. So what it does B? You should never hate but love me. Come here young lady and hug me. My wife said it doesn't matter as long as you don't rub me. Without being such liberal individuals, is it not best we act civil? And that's little. I'm not being rash, but literal. Against me, you're trash, you're pitiful. People will laugh and ask "How did it go?" To get under your skin and very fast you'll know it's ridicule, cause they'll ask again and again. I am lyrical destruction with syllables on paper or if I spill it from within.