Another half breed steamroll stampede
Guaranteed to knock a few degrees up off your pedigree
Ripping it skip the proofread, proceed to intercede
My ten-speed force feed will make your fucking stomach bleed
Tread closely I’m left read ghosting I didn’t mean to do it but I spit love potion
I’m doing very little while you do the most son
The only difference between the two of us? I’m the goat, uh
Modest float on I tend to ride solo
But if you got my back I’m the ghost of Sony Bono
I’m hearing the beat in slow-mo, I’m snapping it like a photo
But picturesque is perfect so go pass your boy the Roto
Did I mention that I feel the tension in my chest
Leaves me to believe that my ascension is coming next
In my defense, I live my life just like a bomb did
Short suspenseful moment’s contents leaving you all dead

It was my destiny to spit with such intensity
That I could change propensity of people through their sensory
And evidently I didn’t do it gently
That’s Mike Permanent, Miguel Permanente
Always been condemning me the stellium in Gemini
Is my dilemma the remedy is cleansing it chemically
Talk shit if you wannna I ain’t rapping to be honored
I’m mad particular with the liquor and marijuana
Signify I’m sharper than samurai with katanas
You acted like you want it now your crippled like your momma
Conclusive evidence that I’m abusing sentences
The slightest confusion causing dissolution of governments
Keep pushing for the revolution
Might die trying but I’m fucking repercussions
Thinking I might abort ‘em decisions mission’s distorted
The autumn implored ‘em to whip out their phones and record ‘em

We could trade bars all day Saturday
But this laboratory is predatory to slaughtering
If you tried to change the story lose the will to respiratory
I think the world is allegory truth is the auditory
So what’s the pecking order cause the boy’s the star reporter
Dropping bombs like quotas and wrecking Mexican borders
Why I outta be on ‘em I ain’t just writing I’m designing
The future is looking super I’m leaving my demon’s sutured
I could leave ‘em loose for for Lucifer the goosebumps
Messing around and fucking with my demons is too fun
I’m picking your beats off cause I marked it with the Trufant
Like Common Market I would rap for fans who didn’t move on
Telling me I was too gone, they calling all of my moves wrong
It wouldn’t be long before my songs would burn ‘em on like Tuscon
I’m coming to someone to stun ‘em with hundreds of verbals
To lead ‘em in circles and Steve ‘em like Erkles eclipsed
Breaking ‘em down with my fist, call it whatever I call it a diss
And Rodney King ain’t ever felt the beat like this