[Verse 1: Suburban Truth]

My flow is deep like the ocean
It gets specific
I'm the microphone choker
The best to grip it
To each his own, but
I think I'm the best implicit
Cause I'm like a calculus teach I test the limits
But there's no cheating
The person that bite's the enemy
My answer key's 280 kilobytes of memory
Word
Cloudy-headed rappers
Are too lazy to make more
I'm 250 verses deep
I brain storm
Then I stream the competition
Drownin' in my heavy flow
No floatin' in my social stream of consciousness'n
That's a favor
They were dyin' of thirt
The proof of my spirit's lyrically
High in this verse
But the storm's clearing
And the levels have gone down
So maybe you shallow rappers
Can finally keep up now
But
Keep your head up
My pencil never let up
And like a broken mechanical pencil
Never lead up