Live From the Center of a Black Hole (Walk on By freestyle)

[Intro]
Hahahaha, yeah. Oh yeah, y’all ain’t ready for this one. Tabs One ‘bout to take y’all on a journey. This stellar navigation. Introspective. ‘Bout to take y’all on a journey. We’re going through the wormhole. See how deep that shit goes. One time, walk with me

[Verse 1]
I made
An Einstein-Rosen bridge out of ropes and twigs so I could
Open lids and worm my way through this hole to go where hope exists
My soul was solar, it grew colder ‘cause of the polar shift
Never knew kissing the sun’s molten lips would be as cold as this
My inner demons rose from an open pit, they still
Linger in my sick dome, I smell the brimstone and sulfur mix
I was sold a myth, misnomer of golden cliffs
So slick I slipped from the rope before the rope could slip around my throat and twist
What we were told: this kid’s erroneous. Now I’m trying to
Extract venom from the exact center of where the cobra bit
I have principles now, but I was sublime on some revolting shit
‘Til I heard the groans of the growing sick and then my motive switched
To a motive ready to explode and start throwing fists
I get nuts, throwing fits, death touch, exploding brick
Head fuck, I get up whenever I’m told to sit
You can bet I stand in Neverland, attention span too broke to fix
Don’t need no coke to sniff, rolled the spliff of a solar
Eclipse over Möbius Strip and smoked it before I wrote this script
Killing it since I was younger, feeling like one of Kony’s kids
Components of my emotions emotionless, frozen stiff
Archeological dig-sight, I got a bone to pick
To be honest, I never saw the logic in “if and only if…”
They said me and my sanity could happily coexist—back in
The day, they told me this, I barely laughed my way to broken ribs
Gambled with my life, going all-in with my poker chips
It’s appropriate. Before I leap from the brink, I wink for showmanship
I gotta ask son, “Does Tabs One have to choke a bitch?”
You chocha, blowing dick, culture vultures provoking my Vulcan grip
I’m saying though, I’m going Super Saiyan mode for this
To leave my opponents with a copious overture of “holy shit”
I never hesitate, underestimate, or over-glimpse
My goal’s to spit ‘til every soul’s convinced I am Jehovah’s kid

[Verse 2]
I made an Einstein-Rosen bridge out of a smoking spliff
And unrequired love notes that I wrote when I was a hopeless kid
My road wasn’t paved with golden bricks, it was paved
By the decaying bones of slaves and rogues who didn’t know to quit
Feels like I came on a slave boat, sick of the ownership
The onus is on us to slave and not get paid what we’re owed for it
I was told some bogusness, corrosive to the soul of those
Who focus on them odious fallacies, realities that don’t exist
Divine on self, I’m true, I follow the rules of Polonius
I don’t exist in the category where you cronies and jabronies fit
Ample example of how opposed my opponent is
‘Cause his hands are full like the first time I groped the tits of an older chick
Felonious, the cops like, “What in the H-E-double-goalie-sticks?”
Bumping Thelonius Monk, smoking a blunt in a stolen whip
In a moment of loneliness, I’ll slowly motorboat your bitch
To give your wife’s tail/tale my white whale, I got a Moby Dick
Don’t need no opiates, only a roach clip and some potent
To smoke and a corrosive potion of rum and coke to sip
They killed me when I was younger, feel like one of Nairobi’s kids
Moving through emotions so ultra-quick that I get motion-sick
Looking at this scene, it would seem that we’re closely knit
But they hold a shiv, know it fits in your ribcage. With haste, they slowly twist
They claim there’s love, but it don’t exist. That claim
Ain’t got a leg to stand on like doing yoga splits with a broken hip
I let it fly 24/8 on some Kobe shit
Always diss you phonies before I rip that Rollie off your bony wrist
With my use of force, I should be a part of Yoda’s clique
Invoking fear like a Viking boat appearing through the ocean mist
I’m an olden myth, all of them phobias you thought
That don’t exist, ferocious vocalist crush the world when I close my fist
I won’t rest ‘til I’m a guest up in Jehovah’s crib
Kicks up on the sofa, looking over the globe like, “We own this bitch”