Remember me? Probably not, but don't worry, I wouldn’t either

What's that? Another Tom Bomb blowing out your speaker

As Luck Would Have It, yeah we're still at it, as addicts;

I can’t imagine not participating; continuation's contagious

Case in point: present time, demonstration of dedication

To the craft. Crept and came in, correcting laymen from Basements

Deprivation led to hatred; self-destructive detonations

Incessant steps never taken; no betterment; never changing

Take a taste of your medicine, MCs; steadily checking them

Microphones, ready to catch wreck, resting in pestilence

Unbeknownst to them, this Plague's spreading as many messages

Over these Slanted Sidewalks, into their heads, in essence

It's a test; a never-ending development meant to deaden this

Sorry excuse for a scene. Pardon the truth that's in me

However it's impeccable; pen or pencil, or pedestal

I'll find a way to send it, bet in the end it's inevitable

Evident as most bred-to-be-better-than-bests’ recreant

Delicate mess centers; never hesitant to predicate;

Let us commence sentencing, set to extreme prejudice;

Carry it out recklessly. Swift as a six-legger

Reinforcing what’s important; swore to remain elusive

Force a facing-of-the-music of sorts and then make them use it

The lore of one day removing a sword that would slay the stupid;

Exsanguination taking place as blood pours to the pavement; putrid!

A portion of the portrait painted in pain is the main cue or allusion

Not illusion, to what happened; factual truths

Rather than subterfuges, the latter is what we're proving

To gradually eradicate; damn if you don’t approve it (prove it)



As if that even matters, nothing's new under the standard

Pay attention to the man who's standing mic-attached-to-hand

And as he gathers up attention spans and spans the time, he's asking

You oblige attempts to expand your mind; perhaps you might imagine



A summoning of the Kraken (cracking) drums; entrust in that which

When practiced becomes fact in Lovecraftian manner magic

Stylistically it’s interesting, gripping these little factions

And their fictions, while continually envisioning attacking

Their attempts at rapping rapidly; rabbit-in-hat trick patterning

Plastic passion past (passed) in a panoramic view panning

And it seems as if it's actually that which was never had

Yet in reality the fantasy-as-fact is damn near canon

Teach a way to rearrange it; please--and thanks--be gracious

And pray that is the way to manipulating impatience

It's a razor-sharp sensation; making an art through statements

Breaking apart clichés without waiting to start creating

Never cared too much to meddle in affairs I don't find relevant

Whether or not it registers with me isn't a requisite

Setting up a new precedent reminiscent of negligent;

Until then, catch me pressing on with my pessimistic preferences



As if that even matters, nothing's new under the standard

Pay attention to the man who's standing mic-attached-to-hand

And as he gathers up attention spans and spans the time, he's asking

You oblige attempts to expand your mind; perhaps you might imagine