Souls from the Streets

"Soul's from the streets of the Ill-a-delphiadaic insane"

[Verse 1: Ikon the Verbal Hologram]
My mathematical powers devour cowards as I spray words
Like acid rain showers, nations, you can't face them
Erase them or I praise them as my mind excites the wind
Like spiritual incantations, time will clash, haunt ya cipher
Whether concealed behind whirlwind fire or flood
Draw blood from wack souls as I smack hoes
With accessible decibels
The damage that my syntax causes is irreparable
The vanity of my insanity'll force ya whole clique to be divided
You have just bear witnessed to dub side united

[Verse 2]
Or do you love bugs, styles and fresh and numb sums of soul
Catch craft and the clutch is the archer's mode, and sure plot of device
We shot twice out of the same barrel
Rush through [?] slug
Advise me with words from deaf mute com battles
All time left, the pure shot plug the break
You marathon let me down to grace the plate
Full stagnant, touch [?] but revamp the squad
Gettin' loops, [?] on contact

[Verse 3]
The triflin' four fifths sparks another spliff
Bodies left stiff, you can't fuck with my ruggedness
My gunshots is leaving niggas on they asses
Smoking all the cannabis like the weed savage
With demented [?], you take an L
You no challenge, I blow up ya muthafuckin' brain cells
And leave you leaking, the slang tongue speaking
Cocks back the fifth, teflon starts to seek it
Criminals on a move, set a threat
Sip the Moët, and let off the twin TECs to ya muthafuckin' chest

[Hook]
"Rhyme be coming from an illadelph state of mind"
"Soul's from the streets of the Ill-a-delphiadaic insane"

[Verse 4]
I speak double-double, 'cause double trouble
Never do I rumble or mumble
My microphone sever clones
It's beyond [?] since the 46 chromosomes
No more, no less, no need to flex the ego trip with the clip
I got the 6-1-0 flow, and 082 is my zip
Yo, so call me out in Philly when you down to flip
No frill skills, or freestylin' when y'all wildin'
I'm broadcasting all the way live from Philly's Long Island

[Verse 5]
I visualize cream, TECs strapped with infrared beams
Stash keys, and [?], bickin' back, sipping Don P
My clique of criminals living comfortable
My pockets full of benjamins, fool surrendering
When I'm blendin' in, dub side invincible
Imperial, for lyrical tactics
I react with, son you get ya ass kicked
Indeed the face of evil is the face told by me
So I proceed to bleed my people, niggas say I'm too cerebral
Realize, dub side, flippin' perfection through your section
Sanity's slippin', whose the next victim to catch a blessin'

[Verse 6]
Set a threat, I rip the mic and run race like an auto shop
The silence left disperse leavin' heads in a casket box
This nappy headed villain, verbal torture is illegal
I back down clowns with a four pound as I defeat you
Inserting lyrical slugs that's straight deadly
A nickel plated verse I spit like a hollow tip, steady
Constantly cocking back rapid fire weapon
This adolescent keeps a clip full for street protection
Ain't nothing complex about the way I cock my biscuit
I set a threat and bust a TEC son, it's not explicit
Exquisite in divine rhymes I drop like jewels
The mic I abuse when I choose to break fools

[Hook]
"Rhyme be coming from an illadelph state of mind"
"Soul's from the streets of the Ill-a-delphiadaic insane"

[Verse 7]
With this course, I force many emcees out the galaxy
Challenge me, I rip apart flows with my analogy
Now that we got that established I crack ya cabbage with styles
You can't manage to damage or even fathom the mental capacity
'Cause I harass these wack emcees
In degrees I span universe
And mounting casaulties in the dark
I spark cells, dwelling in dungeons
My assumptions canonical, unstoppable, mad logical
I pull centrifugal, mystical
My poetics rip phonetics up in ritual syllable

[Verse 8]
Coming back from the city of Atlantic, it's the hispanic
Causing mass panic with fat static for ya addict
Automatic, I stick shift swift if you test me
Left the ciphers, layin' lifeless, leaving one spot empty
Bet you get ya crews bruised in black and blues
Put ya name and age on the front page of the newspaper
I drape the hood up on my carriage
Damage faggots with the habits
Feedin' on emcees like maggots
Inspect ya gadgets, my style switches 'cause I flipped it
Return the microphone, fix the stitches 'cause I ripped it

[Verse 9]
I can't stand like a maniac depressin'
That's been submerged in subterranean utopia
My dimension that I'm representin' is the Philipedia suburbs
Which has regenerated neoterics
That kick esoteric poetry on this plain of obscurity
One element, top lyricist
Interlocked with D-U-B squad of imperialist
With an innovator as the dictator
So we seek [?] rival crews with solipsistic views
Heads emulate but can't duplicate
'Cause this side can't be tugged, one love

[Hook]
"Rhyme be coming from an illadelph state of mind"
"Soul's from the streets of the Ill-a-delphiadaic insane"