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lyrics

My flow tie the room together like it was the Dude’s rug. These dudes thugs?! Probably view True Blood. Probably do dudes, bruh. Refuse lube, huh? I see that shit when I see this dude’s mug. Sippin’ a brew mug, doin’ a few drugs, and makin’ moves on your girl tellin’ her you is a stooge, son. My moves done outshined you; I’ll out-rhyme you then watch while that chalk outlines you. Try as you might, you can’t write like I do. Mr. Miyagi kickin’ holes right through your vitals. False idols get squashed under my banners. Cobra Commander smokin’ Buddha spittin’ sick banter. End of story: you bore me. You keeping score, B? I’m pourin’ forties with your bitch, she sportin’ shorties. She picks it up and drops it to where the floor be. I’m spittin’ morbid and gory, I’m a borg, see?!

credits

from Satan's on His Way & He Wants His Drugs, released June 21, 2014

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about

Touch A.C. Louisville, Kentucky

Woke up in escape pod. Unsure of year. Must rap.

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