J Dilla
Slay
Yo
It's the misanthrope exacting revenge
The sun shines till Son dies then it's back dead
Wrote my feelings on a wall in pen in black and in red
And I spit my rhymes till my eyes roll to the back of my head
It seems to me what thee should be concerned with
Is the predetermined outcome of your treason you've exerted
I've observed this for a while and all the while I have
I kept a smile on my face in case the wasteful break bad
Type Shakespearean. So furious, gone
So staunch, not brawn, reappearing at dawn
The pawn turned chief happened when their captain had lost
To me, it's all in the game, I fucking told them it's on
Kong became king because I slid him the crown
Your disadvantage to my rampant fits depicted through sound
The philanthropist within me then inhibits your downfall
My kindness for weakness mistook feeds you asphalt
You assholes refuse to quit. Shoo-bee -wop my uzi spits
Out metaphors and complex left kicks for deaf kids
To flex with when exorcising thought over fresh shit
Beats rhymes & life is the motto I've accepted
More so decrepit as I crept into sector
As I rectify the errors that you bearers have presented
Right in front of me and underneath
No wonder why I come to seek out hundreds of these blundered beasts
That think they can one up me