I'll cripple any hypocritical critic I'm sicced on, my words hit gongs as the vibrations spread to your brain stem, get out of the way while I spit insane phlegm and maim men, I'm the lion who claims dens, clones of Original Syllable I render unmendable and expendable, my gems are indispensable and presented with the intent to put dents in weak sentences, with unique penmanship I'm beyond censorship, I make your sensors lift, I'm present now, I know you sensed the gift, I clenched a fist and thrusted it through the clouds, my dream is to someday move a crowd and give them more energy through my recitals than tidal waves of vital sound that shakes idle graves and resurrects an entire ghost town, mother****er, if you didn't know who holds the flow crown, you've been told how I get down and you know now, I could whisper this to you without being loud and you'd still be wowed, like "Kill me now, why is he so proud?" BLAOW, my energy beams don't graze targets like cows, my style is more foul than a flagrant punch, this locomotive brain has an insanely dangerous touch, that'll make your hairs stand up like a quivering hush while I'm delivering such an adrenaline rush with nothing but a pen and my guts, you don't know me. -Original Syllable


