As I creep through these streets laced with land mines and innuendo These zombies sleep to the beat, stuck in the game like it’s Nintendo And I’ve been broke but I still wrote this dope shit ‘til my pen croaked The rhymes tile in mind, filling space like Roger Penrose It’s sickening how despicably quickly back-stabbers stick you so deeply I take my kick-it off repeat Configure slicker trigger mechanisms to defeat The malevolent, prevalent ignorance in those we meet My prose replete with subtleties like smoke bubbling As I take my bong-hit of chronic I’m struggling To hold it in, rubbing stubble on chin Juggling words with a pen, coughing and choking again Spitting into the wind, chilling weekends and new beginnings The anorexic lexicon of these rap icons has gone on too long It’s like they text their songs My intoxicating logic hits the brain like hypoxia clouding your thoughts and ya cracking Your vocabulary’s lacking and I’m verbally smacking your lazy styles off the mattress I yell WAKE UP, you fell off like you stay drunk, slip, trip on words where you lay, stuck My flow is tight like new kicks laced up, your random tantrum smears your make-up You left stage, tail between legs, skunked, I caught vapors off the haters who knew that they stunk And I’m stoned to the bone off this bud chunk Some say my lyrics are cryptic and deciphering my rhymes is like crime scene forensics I grip this mic like I hold that piece when I smoke a bowl-load I breathe deep as I sink into the beat and I rip this tight flow I’m liable to idle, next moment explosive as I drive all my rivals into lamenting morosely Hold my enemies closely by the throat, see them stop breathing But I let loose so they live with the truth that I’m bringing Heavenly singing starts your ears ringing, the globe splitting while I’m spitting As I boldly flow where no soul has flown before Between eye sockets a thought rocket ascends rapidly against collective gravity of mental war Fare paid for fair trade. Insidious corporate interests finance a new world order to bring you some cheaper seat covers A couple cup-holders and a penchant for addiction only matched by the complete lack Of condemnation, legislation, or litigation against corporations exploitation of third-world nations I’m braving defamation, ostracization, relocation to adjacent spaces of antisocial population Career assassination and critics shots from rooftops for exposing the culturally corrosive plot Of the one-stop-shop-'til-you-drop, free thought rotting media feeding ya censored pictures and Scripture with the