Word to Bacteria

2000, the year 23, words become bacteria
Wrote this here outer body near a cave in Syria
Hippie gusto, a failed dust bowl farmer
As the young grow old, the old blood grow harsher
Rolled one verse to cut, Earth's crustal armor
I'm a Humboldt sparker
I got bars stocked inside a gun boat harbor
Silver tongue spun gold, slice vessel right
Cut throat, starbird?
Can't hear you this loud blew noisily
Ultra spoiled me, cooked base, mom spoon oily
High school blew royally (wow), whose Goya bean
Now it's different shit, new toilet sеat
Ahh, steamin' slow like rice burnеd
I write run-on sentences like, consecutive life terms
Since '95, I was gettin' stripes and cyphers
A Wetlands fighter, a Nuyorican's bread and writer
Back then there wasn't as many rhymers
At the time, the talent outside was like the '84, 49ers
Overboard, deck hands berserk (What?)
Standing room only, sweat glands would burst
Sick o' red hands on shirts
Kickin' shit like my size twelves, what bed pans and murk
Yo, a ginsu beef, to cow chowder
11 century, my town outer
County jail called Valhalla
Stony foulmouthed, a downtowner
Not here to pat around with any idols, they bow down to (Nah)
Roundhouse kick drums, basketballin' on shrooms, big ups (Oh!)
Volcanic hiccups
Freestyle let go from the roof like, Bishop
Promos to megaphones in the back o' pickups
Gonzo Rambo, shark cuttin' in tar puddles
Catchin' stank faces like hard puzzles
Whole scene silent, Arbuckle (Hahaha)
Those writtens made the whole bar chuckle
Chop drums, tourniquet, hard knuckle
Hailed the old air
Stab a writer during a fire at the cabaret, Voltaire
Death in THX, high def exhibition
The pen got, steroid in hands, bicep definition (Yeah)
I wasn't a backpacker, just a trip writer (Facts)
Not a circus act uppin' higher to spit fire
Hit finder
Took my ghost to bandage the skin like a whip with stripped tires