(TEJ.Dillon)
I'm insane but just kick it, my brain?
Something's wrong with it
My head? I don't know what to do with it
My thoughts are something too lucid
My words are something too pellucid, lucrative, and illoosive
I just cut deals, and deal with this
Split some scissors open and just commit to it
You don't know how to deal with it
I'm just too omnipotent for you fake poets
You see I'm the precipitant, looking for tea to sip, and just chug it
To take a blink of an eye and just lash it, but when you doubters take a shot I just bat it away
I bet it frustrates and sways, get obliterated and as-strayed
How could you fake poets wake a God and not know it?
And while I'm being illmatic and striking sciatic nerves, let me just shake up nerds
I fling em' words and abuse the verbs with word tenses they never thought of
Keep sucking and rapping, getting two views and happy-ing
Partying like you just wen't platinum
While 'Retake' with Ferinetti, is already hitting 800 plays'n'gravy
My wavy 'Enigma', still the highest spot
You been underneath 'My Killshot'
You're under my shadow, you can rot
If you wanted to bud in, you should've knocked
You try to fight you'll get rocked, and beat with a giant rock'n go in
In other words, my 'Power Button''s been pushed in
'The Open Curtains' just spun in
You better 'Act About It' and break these 'Walls' "down" while you're at it
Asking for a feature, man quit playing
Saying you wanna be in there's a reason I'm delaying and setting it off
Spraying off and betraying all, in other words I'm just sounding off
These words I'm not playing off
I'm too much of a lyricists to resist conflicts that twist and get me involved
Too much of a musician to sway my position
I'm just dissing, I wan't competition
Calling Janero to the spot, let me battle you again to go 2-0
Let me in on someone else who'd got a pen
Let me show you how to fend, I try to offend
A feature I'm not offering
Your rapping sucks, you're a joke
You're the egg I crack when I wanna laugh
When I wanna hear a desperate rapper
Who says his words almost hesitant, admits to being homosexual, infers to a genetic chromosome flaw, that just claws at him
But I'm the Devil in your head I'm just smacking him
I'm the conscious in you head, I'm just laughing at him
I'm a lack of a voice when you wake up sick, go to speak but can't make a noise
I'm the broken beat maker app, that makes you think God doesn't want you to rap
I'm the Devil on your shoulder, telling you to bow down and just watch my victory lap
I'm so far into rehab of mind
If I fall of my music of grind, I might not be able to think of another rhyme
But for now you better hope you don't end up in one of my lines
My rhyme book, or just stay shook
Cause' my opinions on you little demons haven't changed
My shots still have an aim, I don't regret anything I've said
I meant every line and every name I've said
I meant every threat and every comment I've made
Every beat and feature I've rode
Every verse and every chorus I've wrote
Every time I was at you neck like the strep of a throat
Every time I offended you and your butt got hurt
You should've buckled up, your rap got me chuckled up
I got your name, but when I search Google, nothing pops up
So, try and call my bluff, search my name and see what songs you end up
Or you can diss and in a song you'll end up
(It's your choice so let's just sit back a minute and see who's next to end up in a clinic.)
