Contact

[Verse One]
Cascade from the sun
It's the venomous flavor lay strung
Straight from the lung to a razor blade tongue
(That was real)
But shit it should've been a century back
Those who are mentally strapped now will eventually snap
(True)
Snakes rise from baskets, you can check it's raw and pass it
But do not ignore the facet I'm deffer than boric acid
When it infiltrates your temple shakes
Leaving memories distorted though no injuries reported
You know the ill schemes of high beams and guillotines
On the for reala, hear the screams from the Philippines
Rupture your dental with professional perspective flip
It's fundamental yo, that questional selective shit
Know what you facing, complications get emotional
No time for wasting, conversation non negotiable
Doubters and provers know antagonist can snatch the profit
Counter maneuvers can be hazardous and catastrophic
Those who are used to this say chaos can prevail daily
Suppose a crucifix can help you if Hail Mary
Putting my gin aside, you know I get melodic right?
The unidentified, phenomenal chaotic type
When I communicate I cover like a sewer plate
See me and haunt me like Seattle when I illuminate
Check your division, intuition brings precision but
My mysticisms yo can fuck a whole religion up
For those who might incline get tipsy but believe me Lord
No calling psychic lines or gypsy's moving Ouija Board
It's just an entity that tags on you mentally
Contact, draw the flag, take the penalty

[Hook] {x2}
"The mic is contact" - Nas 'It Ain't Hard To Tell'
When speaking on a topic of being intoxicated by a verbal narcotic
"The mic is contact"
When we drop gems you can feel from your melon to your Timbs on the real

[Verse Two]
While others are prisoners, it's the sonic incarceration
I transcend through amplitude of frequency modulations
My rhymes afflict something wicked when they spray
Brain decay
Got me flipping drowning Richard in the bay
I lay
Every line like bows
Cement causing the microphone to tilt
Creating empires like the Roman's built
My scripture's lifted
I roll it up and make a spliff inhale
My verbal gift prevails, rating 10's on every Richter scale
This shit is drama, no part of it is comedy
I gotta get away
Hitch your ride on a chronic leaf
And atom bomb a beat releasing mega potent stimulants
Mad adrenaline, it circles you
Now you're vertical
With no thanks to Mt. Dew I'm spitting shanks when bouncing through
Attract the impact
It's like you smoked an ounce or two
I'm in your headphones
My verse is bound to blow your bubble off
But the high boomerangs I catch are slow with double force I'm high octane
I clog brains and veins the pain remains ya lame game
Niggas can't maintain
They're quick to vanish
They didn't manage to discover I'm inflecting damage
Leaving niggas shrinking like I'm Rick Moranis
My method's on the D.L., I keep it top secret
Plans of overthrowing me?
(Enlist the bitch in shock treatment)
The long term goal is to construct a sick trend
Transmit my flow within
Make you rupture Bic pens
Even clad in shackles I leave 'em holy like tabernacles
With shattered Snapples in they Adam's Apple where bladder's travel
Making punks bleed
Triple the strength of skunk weeed
When I bomb tracks, catch the contact

[Hook]

"Come vibe off the contact" - Smif-N-Wessun