WWII (World War II)

I could be the last of the classical acts in modern times. I'm the Nina Simone of rappers; got a bag of black magic stashed in a rather elaborate package taped to the spine
The upper echelons of humankind, you and I ain't in the same vicinity, so you'll never be suited for my secluded climb
This Guggenheim shit and y'all arts and crafts
Most of your peers won't come close to {the wiz}, and truth be told none of these lying cats ever had the {heart}to last
So much building got em calling mе the architect
And so you'll nevеr catch me rhyming bout my ass but my past three albums was bout astral travel but I never saw a magazine or blogger feature or market that
And the awkward fact is that I still spit spheres round your top five picks so if you calling that shit fly then I go Mach Five, seen? imma dot I's, cross t's, the call's easy
But nowadays they need a hand deciphering writing this complex so i call my first verse to every song my prosthesis
And when the introduction's over I proceed to shake up their confidence in every mc they sponsored like grand mal seizures
I'm all season. I don't give a gotdamn about a pop fan putting me inside their top ten, I do not plan to drop, bend, twerk, spread, I am here to offend your senses with some senseless sentences down in Austin at the south by showcase with a straight face at a turnt venue
And when I'm done i throw a deuce up in the atmosphere
Come in peace or you might get your Adam's apple speared
With all these sharp witted lines and verses I'm a threat to any opponents I find roaming through dem atlases
And they wonder why I can be so cavalier about it, I run with a team of champions let's be clear about it, Trust me, I can bullshit my first 12 bars then leave the final four with a winning shot that surprises everybody
Cuz im a lyrical beast in the street dem. Gods illest gladiator with a muheffing ink pen. I got Almoravids moonlighting as my henchmen, the dopest rhyme slayers from out the deep end
Sa-Roc