To be on another plateau you gotta rap pro or become sawdust
You want to die, well, you can be accommodated
In the A-Wing, we're gray things, petrude from my gray rings
Acid flashbacks, get hacked up into fractions
This time I sawed in my breath and rhymed circles of sin
The same yield, but the field's littered with corpses
I'm not stuck-in-the strucken function
I'm hella pro, a rappers work is never done
See, if I don't reanimate the meat-grinder's brain
To be honest, you sock like Homnus
So you can catch the prime example of those who rock right
Same old cash respecting bitches, I can't front yo
Make sure the door's locked and the dead-bolts fastened
I talk tight, my mic's made of alabaster
It's dephtrimental that you set your mental clock right
Keep a bag of Buc Fifty's of my cabinet of men
An overdose of death, spare me no grill
Thinking of the things you should worry about
Till I'm out in the wide open plains hoping to maintain
I put my pressure on the corner to cave the box in
The last man standing, never call a truce
An unaffectionate day, I'm section A
I adapt to the place, I hear the bass pumping
Been ill since my conception, I've come for the collection
Oil in my turmoil, ridden block of ill rythem-wear
I husk a bone on that ass with no exceptions
Death is my departure, till then I'm explosive
Sergeant Roadkill, still missing in action
Follow this blood trail and hurdle through the forest of doubt
Cast a shadow beside of mount shout before I smash ya
Do you stay awake at night
Cracken cockroaches, talk about class divisions
A barrel delivering like a Winchester in a pool full of crude
Keep every rhyme different, that's a sign of affection
I'm rare, send me on ill will, I'm there
I like necks, I think I'm about to sever one
My collection of strange things include
Busy Bee went back to the hotel and spelt his name in dough
Your worst nightmare that shares no compassion
I promise to be the bonus, I gotta say that
Let's play, you be the bride of death and decay
