Microphone Science

[Verse 1]
Spit some lit or I'll split your lip
I rock jeeps, keep your hat straight
Rumble and tumble beats like a mad tape
Bliss lyricist, giving you that slake
Not a fad, not a fake
I make raps to break and shake crates
The rough stuff, sometimes I'm on a mad pad
With stacks of fat lines and rhymes
Rad divine, sloppy like a bad chine
Splitting rappers like Mobb Deep
I stomp beats harder than concrete
Ya bet I'm wild, so check the rhyme style, foul
To bomb sounds with compounds, nouns, and vowels
Constantly making raw cuts like phill chill
Check the technique I seek, defeat and kill
The crop's ill, who got the skill, hint, I top bill
Steady and deadly calm, ready with my palm
Not rolling with a big squad, but motherfuckers I bomb

[Cool]
With the beats that rip, I asunder and ram
When I freak my spit, most cannot understand
The rhyme I'm relaying, the line I'm saying
With fat raps on black wax, I stay weighing
Because my style is by the gram and
MC's stay riled, because I'm wild slamming
Compare me to the competition, but they can't match my form
Strong enough to snatch, ain't no bluff when I swarm
Storm lyricists like the bastille
It's a 1-9-9 on the mic when I kill
Justified because they sounded too wack
As if their words were scriptures when they spewed raps
I come clean, and thrum reams
MC's remain in fright because the din dires
Now you face the elements, earth, wind, and fire

[Hook/Scratch]
"Notoriously enterprising, vocals for analyzing"

[Hot]
My vocals in effect, so check your cerebrum function
In a time of war, I spawn from destruction
Erupting mental thought processes to vocalize, so hear it
The soul controller, I monopolize the lyrics
I got clout like Fidel Catro
You shout and pout, but on the Mic I blast flow
I gitchya, hitchya with a fast blow
Mic in the right, and the left I haft throws
Elevate your mind to a higher plateau
I filter the subconscious thoughts from stack and stow
To the best raps you've heard in awhile
You can't define nor count the words I've compiled
To craft a literary piece that I bestowed

[Verse 1]
I use to feel like crap waking up in the morning
Now I'm laid back, I take naps after yawning
Everyday all day like it's a damn cycle
The second Toddy Tee, batteram mic flow
My steelo is like b in subtle
But knuck if you buck, my cadence rumbles