My rhymes ain't nothin like those typical lines
I dine myself to my own fears when I write
I take the time to make it sound right, if it don't bring me hype I call it a night,
Start a fight, fuck a knife ill stick my finger in your throat and wait for you to croak,
I ain't like the typical folk, fuck your swag and Yolo
ill shoot you in the fuckin head and watch your mother beg to hug you,
Unlike you other blokes ill show a little remorse,
I'll sit at home after staring at that corpse,
The passion he holds is fashioned into a shaming attachment/
He's taming these bastards with his voice still he's comin off as a massive spaz, he's just that fantastic/
The measures he took were drastic, never liked school but was enthusiastic about learning words from Scholastic/
He's iconoclastic towards this new age rap shit,
Here's some twisted shit you can't fathom/
Imagine a mother having a mental spasm/
In front of her two sons, one holding two guns/
The other springing a knife, ready to end your life /
It might be the right time send the mother to an asy-lum/
All they want is sil-ence, dreaming of an abandoned is-land