1080 Mile Radius (Lunatic)

Just like that, (Yeah.) it's just silence (Fuck you, There's no silence) fuck yourself.( I don't even like silence.) Why do I even do this.( I wonder that all the time)I don't know, I don't know why you do anything dude.(fuck this is a Song) You're a fucking loser. why do you get up? (Yup it looks like that time again)Why did you survive the suicide? Why did that happen? , I'm gonna have to go in and just slay it with rhymes. (Yo show 'em, kill these motherfuckers, jus..just do it. Do it.) Yeah some night shit

[Verse: Coal Cash]
On some knight moves, known for hooking when I strike dudes
Took to central booking, niggas looking like food
Pigs we fight through, and triggers might shoot, but on
80-proof liquor, think I’m quicker than light moves
Swifter than IQs in the mind of Einstein times two
Picture the prime time in my mind when I shine through
It’s true pigs can fly, you could die from the swine flu
Confusion by design paralyze what your spine do
Illusions rule the mind, you cosign to what you find true
I knew you were blind, lemmings follow in line behind you
Lucrative rhymes are paradigms of my divine view
The future is mine, and I’m enshrined with sublime proof
Define truth to euthanize who despise the roots
Shoot you in the eyes hypnotized by the guise of loot
Survive a nuke, rebuke the tide that had tried to roost
Reclusively hide before my foolish pride tied the noose
Crucified if you deny their side with politics
Where wallets get demolished when they pay for your college scholarship
Working blue-collar shifts, get striped of dollars with
No solace for the novice impoverished living in squalor’s pit
I’m William Wallace, bitch, screaming, “Valhalla,” while
Kabbalah crafts the Golem, I’m solemn to what the problem is
I’ll knock the columns with the fury of Samson, the temple
Stanchions getting crushed from my destructive expansion
I’m enhancing the ranting tantrum, spit an anthem of wild craziness
My brain makes me a thousand-and-eighty-mile radius
I’m Wayne Brady, smacking a baby off your lady’s tits
The shit I spit lately so crazy, I think I may be sick
The shit that they played me like, it’s greatly immersed with purpose
Is the purpose my verse surfaced to take a shit on the circus
You’re a worthless piece of shit from flatulence of asshole accidents
So acclimate an attempt before Heaven is sent a scent of your sacrament
I’m an active applicant of adapting tracks ‘til your synapses spent
An immense sense of energy in the telemetry of how many laps it went
No sense of levity or brevity in my mental telepathy
I’m respectively the best, and even death’s afraid to get next to me
Impressively manifest to express the Akashic Records, I’ve reflected
Galactic rifts with my immaculate methods, I’m too
Invested in this shit when spitting seismic soliloquies, the abilities
Exponential from all of my mental facilities
The essential utilities killing these leagues of thieves of oxygen
With toxin you shouldn’t breath, you wouldn’t believe how it rots your skin
The blots begin to dim your state of complexion, and any
Spots that you’ve been in increase the rate of infection
With connection to the caustic, anamorphic sense of the viral strand
Expanding through the spiral, snuff the vitals of any rival clan
Commanding tidal waves that were conveyed by my primal rage
That prayed on your survival way worse than any Bible plague
(“Kill them! Kill them all now!”)