Verse 1:
My flows are like Mozart’s most powerful symphonies
I print with the intent to make dents subliminally
What the hell is platinum? Y’all be hoein’ your poems
That’s like Van Gogh’s paintings in a million homes
My style manages to baffle analysts
And it’s just as deep as Confucian analects
It’s whatever, my thoughts are just better
Just clever 'cause I write with duck feathers
Y’all charlatans, I read the hearts of men
All in sin ’til I die on wax for all of them
Knowing my flows surprise most without gross
Cop flows that distort the cosmos
Like Antisthecons, y’all can’t diss Kawann
Your antics are fine but I transmit to 'nam
Stop trying, your semi’s folding
Hene’s holding a semicolon
Your many poems are proems and that’s if any know ‘em
I can’t tell through scantin’ you ain’t advancing
Your world is crashing, then me? I’m Earl N. Manson[?]
Metric precision obtained from elision
You wanna be driven? Then find your decision
But I highly recommend you never step to Kawann
‘cause you a leprechaun compared to my lexicon, I’m

Chorus:
The epitome of rap
Kids say that I’m gifted, mythic with the ripping tracks
Even if I am no longer speaking
Even if I am no longer breathing
Eventually coming back
The epitome of rap
Kids say that I’m gifted, mythic with the ripping tracks
Even if I am no longer speaking
Even if I am no longer breathing
Eventually coming back

Verse 2:
I leave a rapper perplexed and kinda vexed how I flex in my text
Show sets, stress them to death ’til they just feel hexed
I’m a T-Rex with teeth just to eat meat best
Lyrics catch you like Pterodactyls for the nest
I’m the worst or the best emcee to ever print, ever spit
Evidence of this is evident
I never been out-rhymed, my pen outlines
And then outline the rudiments you can’t outshine
Call me underground, molten like earth’s core
But the verse forth the burbs all those who curse more
I turn for and wrote my first score four score
And four hundred years before yours
Try again, this time from the diaphragm
More cats will buy your jam and less will pirate them
And y’all wanna crossover? OK Iverson
You’re gonna need a liver hand and a brighter clan
No pun intended, if I penned it in Terror Squad
Lyrics I flow and pose the fear of god
I leave clear inside “Grandpop’s Paradox”
And come back on the back of a Triceratops
Marcus done made me spark this
As if I’m trying to sign to Ruckus
Flows as if I’m sounding kinda awkward
Ripping guitar riffs, equipped with the raw gift
I spit with the god’s gift, y’all just talk it
The hardest artist to me is a soft kiss
Creating this garbage, you making me nauseous
Y’all can quote this as the dopest opus
I wrote this in a temple old as Moses
Erosions occur whenever I shoot a verb
The universe says dude superb and I do concur
You got a lotta Prada, I got a lotta cantatas
Not a lot have got to bother with but still I jot it