"Prolific Origin" By Obsydian.Rootz

Every stumble is a stanza, every struggle a rhyme, And I’m siphoning my burdens, leave regret in the lines. Mirror’s cold with indifference, but reflection’s my proof: I escaped from the silence, now I speak my own truth. but your success is rented everyday I wake with same intention break down these fences and dissolve my defenses see the masquade, the parade through different lenses time to upgrade to a new mission cut through the tension No retreat, just resolve, even crumbling I rise, Break the silence with confession, let my verses baptize. When the ground starts to quake, I just tighten my lace— Moving forward with defiance, ’cause escape is my grace. what you see is a transient being your exaistance is demeaning- I create my own meaning f*** all your false preaching.I'd rather be in the cave in the mountain.Just breathing knocked down hit the ground, b plantonic shamonic prolific alchemy shifted intrensic I use my own energy shift my frequency that's why all you get is the best of my witness the festivities leave behind your desrecpencies authentic origin it's in my gut and my ore-gans for you it's sounding forgein cause it's rich like soil while rains pourin LIGHTNING IS STORMI left without distortions that normal shit is boring NOT JUST ARCHTECKT IMA FORMEN, IF ITS A BATTLE IM A COREMEN, HOLD UP ANOTHER THOUGHT IS FORMIN Knocked down, hit the ground, but I’m back and I’m standin’, Pentatonic, shamanic with the chants that I’m chanellin’. Prolific with the alchemy, I’m flipping what’s intrinsic, Turn friction into frequency and shift my inner physics.I use my own energy to edit my existence, Raise the signal, change the station, calibrate the distance. That’s why all you ever get from me’s the best of mine, Witness how the stress diminishes when I step in time.Witness the festivities, I exit all discrepancies, Center in my essence, leave your echoes in the mezzanine. Authentic in my origin, it’s rooted in my organs, I dont record what's distorted and dont repeat what is corded From the gut into the chorus, every note is sounding foreign.It’s rich like soil when the rain starts pourin’, I rep this shit to death, no MOR-Bid , wake up when it's dark still morning, yall use to the myths and lore man. Life in the lightning, I’m the flame in the stormin’. the heat is to hot, on the mic ima lion and ROAR-IN, FUCK AROUND AND The GOREMan , The jungle Left with no distortions, that “normal” shit’s corroded, Not just the architect, I form the whole framework and hold it.If it’s a battle, I’m the core of the core men, Torch in my cortex, forging the format. Thoughts swarm, morph, then another one’s form-in’, Verse after verse, feel the world start orbiting.