[Verse 1]
This is the definition of an ill gift and a curse
Leaving the world flat like the ancient vision of earth
Im painting a verse, depicting Genesis in plus size
Not God, Adam reached out his palm to touch mine
Its crunch time, like the opposite of the Big Bang
I spit slang for english professors who slit veins
And sniff cain, I gotta beautiful flow
Merkin' motherfuckers on camera like Viewtiful Joe
Every musical note, gradually inclines in octets
I'm fly, while you're in the lowest lane like Clark Kent
The Dark scent surrounding my aura is death
With its morbid effects torturing the core in my chest
While moving forward in steps as I offer the best
Performance of enormous portion, make you forfeit your breath
Im flawless and blessed, vivid enscriptions make me a Savage
While writtens you spittin' are Counterfeited (Counter-Fitted) like cabinets
Passions established, ready to spark you faggets
I FLOW HEAT WITH NO HEAT, like a heartless Dragon
Parts of sadness start the madness
Consuming tabs of acid, charging into oncoming traffic
Its drastic, cuz while you was writing your foolish verses
I was fucking black holes, giving life to universes
With the few rehearses that it took for you to just man up
I chopped ya fucking legs off and then told you to stand up
Ya plan sucks, they even say im buggin with rhymes
I ain't gotta be Dyme-A-Duzin to have a dozen of dimes
Im lovin' the grind, but me, I ain't workin' with them
I'd rather roll with two twenties like perfect vision
Im cursed with spittin, I'll fuckin put two to ya jaw
Leave ya hooked to an IV like roman numeral four
The truest of all, I'll put ya fuckin crew in the morgue
Spit on ya casket and do the "Stanky Leg" upon ya funeral Floor