perfection in practice. this masterminded madness. master maxxxed out the track outs of my passion. mandem blacked out and snapped- how could I plan this? I just lashed out and passed out: I'm way past tense. hard at work flipping words like birds, I'm back, bitch. writing cursive curses I could serve crack with. I deserve to surf the surface I'm scratching. bubbles burst at first I'm burping yall bastards. no, nobody perfect but me. nobody merking the scene. no power surges but we tripping to service the leaks. this plumber back with the crack. this brother back on attack. this runner back on the track. so run it back it's a wrap. a living lyrical miracle. kin folk with the mythical. most of you spittaz, pitiful. at my worst I'm your pinnacle. all my lyrics despicable displays of the unthinkable. flip the switch and just let it go. I hope you niggas know.