I'm back with more raps swinging a rusty battle axe on horseback fast as Door Dash down to cut you, simple as it gets I'm a pound of mushrooms but triple the effects nuts within the mind fail at times but you can trust I'll get it right back to the scene covered in blood that isn't mine bury the bodies inside a hole so big that a bus can fit inside scariest tactics mutilate in ways you can barely imagine bury the hatchet in your body then I'll carry it back inside of various caskets nothing is as scary as that shit Superman, jump inside a phone booth, spit a scheme grimier than old school Rza beats pack you all in a casket so tight even on the atomic level there's no room in between anything I scribble with a pen results in hellfire and sizzling of flesh fuck killing you, I'd rather cripple you instead with a 1-inch punch to the middle of your chest

Subcon: I'm about just at my wits end, with this pen I sit instead of writing finding dread has crept in this head thinking that I'm reaching for the brink and seeing its edge fixed on this abyss and if I'll slip when gripping its ledge I descend deep into the pit exploring every bit of it's depth pissed? yes, tested and recounting all my missteps fists clenched losing my ambition fearing it's dead with this said I've never been obsessed with making dough or trying to get bread other ways I get fed, my taste is diff-rent the flavor that I like is on the mic reciting this text but when it's gone I'm feeling wrong and feel a longing it's alarming when the thing that you love becomes a slog up in your noggin all this talking that wont stop and it's beyond constant when I'm walking in the moment before the dawn Sadida: I'm just a soul, intentions are good and bad better do the math, headed down a crooked path look at that, survived, rest of them wouldn't have Lost my mind, question if I put it back 'cus damn, making the same mistakes pay for it day to day, maybe there's a way to save probably not, stated in the games we play and hate to say go change it with razor blades 'cus I've been down, beaten purple and blue the world is so cruel, seen the worst it can do learned to get through, breathe in herb and I'm cool drown sorrows drinking bourbon so smooth moments of self reflection like a mirror image clearer vision whenever spirits lifted hear the pistons revving as gears are shifted 'cus I can't be stopped, getting near the finish Fubar: it's dark where I'm from, starving for months imagine it, having to cause bodily harm over crumbs it's hard to discuss I try and hold it in until it starts to erupt, into bars over drums I'm stressed, in dire need of medicine indeed for catharsis there is nothing better than a beat but lately I'm so incredibly fatigued I can't write, it feels like I'm never getting sleep destined to shine can't freestyle for shit but when I write I'm incredibly nice people think that I'm possessed and they're technically right I was twelve when he approached and I let him inside now hell for a regular guy is the equivalent of an eternity in Heaven for I I'm a real piece of shit, I'll address it in time but for now I'll just pretend I allegedly tried I'm dumb yet incredibly wise I don't need a religion I'm pretty good with a secular life I know I'm dead the moment that my memories die but if eternity's reality then let it be mine

Verse 1: passing any test shoot you with the right then I'll stab you with the left I'll be happy when you're dead prepare for a tragedy again like a bear I will tear your anatomy to shreds twisted and odd, while I sit a the top you can bring to my attention any issue you got you think you're dope, I insist you are not I'm equipped with a firearm, you show up with a stick and a rock what I'm spitting is hot, better give me my props I get better with every single tick of the clock let me thicken the plot, you can sit and just watch while I begin to raise Hell in the City of God you're delusional thinking your joint will be a hit when it drops I'll be laughing at the shit when it flops if you're way bigger than me I'm lifting a glock to leave you riddled with shots, I'm talking Biggie and Pac Verse 2: I'm a prophecy of doom, commonly assumed it's impossible to prove 'til a lot of it ensues I constantly improve, locked up in a room yelling at the mic similar to Onyx in the booth try and copy what I do I'll punch you in the chest so hard that it'll separate your body into two you're wack, that is honestly the truth the equivalent of dog shit stuck to the bottom of my shoes drunk Puerto Rican with a saw you think that you run shit I suggest that you keep it to a crawl I'm the anti-Christ, house has a steeple with a cross skilled with a mic as Wolverine is with his claws stop with the arrongance you're not as intelligent and fuck your opinions I am not gonna let them in anything I drop is a pestilence I escaped Hell only to battle God at the end of it

Verse 1: hypothetically I breathe, never intervene I need you to have faith without any evidence of me next level pen, alphabetically unique way prior to me learning my LMNOP's mentally essentially a beast I'm able to reach heights that not even Pegasus can reach the way that I devastate a beat no one ever disagrees is sicker than Old Testament disease you're intelligent indeed walk to a precipice and leap instead of trying to settle in your sleep I'm the devil in your dreams, appear in your nightmares aggressively for weeks 'til you're begging me to cease Chorus: welcome to my gallery of madness only 5'9" but my gravity is massive savage will attack with a hatchet or an ax with the intention to cut your anatomy to fractions Verse 2: allow me to set it known to annihilate but "how?" is the question numerous body parts found in the session God-like, letting people drown as a lesson down in the trenches, yet another bout with depression that'll beat me to the ground if I let it that's the reason why people doubt I'm a legend the reason that no one will ever bow in my presence I'm angry at times, tragedy awoke the animal inside that'll grab you by the throat systematically oppose, callous when approached you're looking to test knowing you're fragile as a rose in your mind you imagine you are captain of the boat practically a GOAT and unanimously dope when you're actually a joke that'll be the case 'til the day they are lowering your casket in a hole Chorus: welcome to my gallery of madness only 5'9" but my gravity is massive savage will attack with a hatchet or an ax with the intention to cut your anatomy to fractions

Verse 1: nowadays it's damn near impossible to write I'm honestly not even responsible this time I'm old, memory bank is nominal in size (it) takes about a day just to jot a fucking line it's absurd, nothing was as simple as writing a bar I use to write in the middle of driving a car nowadays I try and live and survive with a scar hoping I can have it manumitted at night when it's dark wishing I was driven to make count my only life as king, despite being given a fake crown why is it it feels like I live in a strange house? looking to execute a prison escape now it's not easy when depressed and it seems like there isn't a way out wishing to lay down instead, I constantly envision a grey cloud that follows me around while I sit in this cave mouth Verse 2: I feel denigrated and forgotten as well it doesn't feel like heaven, am I rotting in Hell? use to pray to god knowing that he's not gonna help it's more probable I'll find him while I'm locked in a cell now I'm trying to ignite so I'm writing just to write dying to rewind even times I didn't like anxiety is nigh so the timing isn't right nearly nonexistent than it quietly arrives irony is I, sobriety is nice but why in the fuck is it I'm crying every night? undeniably a guy full of violence in his mind got a split personality that rightfully is mine suicidal by design, given what I'm rhyming on the mic it is certainly surprising I'm alive it's entirely implied was given a contract by Lucifer himself and I signed it on the line

Verse 1: currently I'm numb, type that'll murder you for crumbs run from the person I've become when I drink a combination of bourbon and a rum better jump out a WINDOW, it's CURTAINS when I'm drunk people like to act like they're larger than life knowing they're incapable of even harming a fly barbarous type, jarring your mind arsonist-like the way I bring fire with the bars that I write I'm EDDIE BROCK, you would think a shark was in sight when I BITE HEADS OFF having a MARVELous time I'm ROCK SOLID, way I tear appendages apart with a line is actually a little HARD to describe nowadays I have to wait for the stars to align before I'm able to sit and even start with a rhyme but then it FLOWS, prose that is dark as the night you would need to assemble NOAH'S ARK to survive Verse 2: I'm clever on a page, step and get erased F, U, first couple of letters in my name I am better than the greats basically I'm Nate when he Stockton slapped Connor McGregor in the face I am angry, tell me what the fuck am I to do? when I'm pissed off at the world and stuck inside a room I'll MUMMIFY buffoons, anyone who doesn't try and move leave them looking like a BUTTERFLY'S COCOON with a child-like punch leave you with a hole you can LOOK INTO kind of like a PRIVATE EYE does I am FINAL FIGHT tough SPINNING CLOTHESLINE, then I'll shoot you in the face with a rival GUY's gun use to listen to Wu-Tang and idolized Pun knowing when the silent nights come they'd illuminate the darkness, kind of like a fire fly does played with the demons people try and hide from

Verse 1: I'm taking a quick break from listening to tracks sitting in the back, reminiscing of the past sick of what I am the way I go from happy to despondent in less than a minute and a half I frequently visualize an image of my dad getting crushed with bear hugs, while sitting on his lap wishing I could pay him a visit as a man to interrogate with every single mintute that I have empathy is fading, this is what I lack my integrity is dwindling and slipping through the cracks I am twisted it's a fact, known as the pinnacle of rap enraged when the mission is to laugh you are currently listening to a pessimist talk who may have to experience his death on cross to see potential at all, essentially lost looking to find himself again whatever the cost Verse 2: again in a maze that I intend to escape but I never really do at the end of the day yet I keep at it with every single breath that I take keeping distance from every single friend that I've made meant to be great, let me engage using a pen as a blade looking to fight but eventually change you'd be astonished, difference that a century makes but then it's too late, you die at an incredible age when I look into a mirror I'm staring at my enemy's face that's a reality I'll never escape I'm mentally drained, dealing with construction on memory lane looking to flee from the mess that I've made semi-afraid I've led you astray with my Determinist brain but does it ultimately matter the direction you take? it's a game called "life" all you need is the intention to play and then you're dead in a grave

Verse 1: it starts with a grudge foundational hatred is hard to expunge I hold it inside until it starts to erupt dark as they come, far from in love I'm tearing people apart just for fun I evolve, embarked on a mission to adapt now I'm One Punch Man with unlimited attacks sneak into your house while you're listening to trash take a plastic butter knife and stick it in your back I was dead, gone for a minute now I'm back like Lazarus lighting up the path with halogens I'm mad disasterous with raps and battle shit no stages but I'm still as bad as cancer is managing of stress by attacking with a pen rejoice, you are battling the best I'm as savage as it gets, stab you in the chest then I'll grab you by the neck and decapitate your head Verse 2: I conquer and divide with a sharp knife leave people looking like they died from a shark bite for Passing Me By on the Pharcyde lines that I archive will follow you like beams I release from my eyes like I'm Darkseid brute with a hatchet, asking him to battle is the stupidest tactic you'll get your ass kicked voilence on a level you're not able to truly imagine it is time for me to prove it with action dude's an assassin Ryu in a match throwing Hadukens in practice hurricane kick that induces a backflip beat is nice? Jesus Christ, you'll see me turn into Judas and stab shit I do have a soul, I just keep it in a vault I've got problems that only evil can resolve inner demon has evolved, people I involve die a horrible death, think of Jesus on the cross

Fubar: for a burger and fries I'd be down to cut you I trip like I ingested a pound of mushrooms it's actually simple I'm the best it's impossible to kill someone who officially is dead now enjoy any of the crap I'm admitting to all I see are graves and I'm back with some digging tools only trying to help, but that isn't even true punch you in the face, try and rap with a missing tooth wicked indeed, throwing hooks at ridiculous speeds you will survive by the skin of your teeth I am a beast, practically live in the trees I make atheists out of any Christian emcees people quiet as fuck when I approach and spit to the beat then talk negative the minute I leave I'm BACK BROKE as fuck, ready to lift it and squeeze HORSING AROUND will turn you into CHRISTOPHER REEVES

Fubar: what attacks me mentally is knowing that the only thing I have is legacy but it won't even last a century usually it feels like my ass is seventy son's asking me to play but I lack the energy still I'm able to lift weights and such and I have enough time to get shit-faced and drunk I ruminate trying to predict days to come knowing secretly I carry a disdain for love mistakes with drugs, big day for us when I quit but it left me a bit strange and nuts but now you can hear me on mixtapes and stuff not rapping like I'm carrying big chains and guns actually a threat, why is it I'd rather be upset? trying to keep whatever sanity is left immortality or death, reality, pretend the line gets blurred with what I crafted with the pen special set of skills, yet I'll never get a mill with a cup that is empty, I better get it filled I'm a pessimist, nothing will change 'til I pass away embrace what I have to say, instead of trying to praise me with accolades quite simple yet I aim to elaborate interpreting the pain as I navigate brain like a dagger blade, frame full of gamma rays thoughts that'll turn you into waste in a shallow grave

Verse 1: what a life, living it the best that I can undeniably my clinical depression is back I try and fight it convinced that I'm better than that looking to liberate any of the stress that I have yet again with a pen an a pad writing irrelevant trash seeking what I fundamentally lack mentally trapped, had a Vietnam War veteran dad who's involvement was never the plan all I do is ventilate and confess what I am and don't expect you to listen to the end of the track it's all essentially wack no difference at all, nothing that sets me apart from the rest of the map my enemy's back to instigate incredibly fast I'm pissed off yet it's hard for me to sense when I am I used to pray, asked if I'm destined to laugh or meant to be sad nothing but silence when the questions were asked Verse 2: evil as they come, brain that is lethal as a gun I inadvertently hurt the people that I love haunted by a needle full of blood a good night's sleep is essentially illegal where I'm from now I tell people to die, knowing what the future is basically the kid from The Omen in a uterus chronically depressed, phobias are numerous blended with anxiety I told you I ain't new to this been plagued, eternally cursed certainly worse than anyone you've heard with a verse worst of the worst, looking to return to the Earth without any regard for any person he hurts don't matter if it's family or friend I'm as savage as it gets living life with a hatchet in my neck my humanity is dead I fail when I try and enjoy life believing that a tragedy is next

Fubar: ain't nobody give a fuck about your hardships people loving it and bumping all this garbage initially blind but I adjusted to the darkness and now you wack fucks are nothing but a target I'm nice, Gandhi or Jesus minus the fact that I am not with the peace shit ready to divide and conquer what I drop is egregious AXE (ask) somebody you're getting CHOPPED INTO PIECES people getting mad over lines I mention when I don't give a fuck, you can die offended this is light work, bringing you the fire and the pyrotechnics spectacle that Christ intended bear witness to the fact that you shouldn't be alive you now see I'm nothing but a crook in a disguise you mistook me for a guy who wouldn't rob you blind the moment that you look up to the sky Monster Clique, keep, fucking around you'll get a kick to the nut sack and a punch to the mouth

technically alive yet I'm dead to you all usually think that I'm right while essentially wrong I've got skeletons that I've embedded in walls you couldn't fathom what they would say if they ever could talk mentally strong but plagued with degenerate thoughts the moment that he's happy is the moment that the enemy calls writing such incredible songs looking to keep it up, hoping he will never exhaust I try and take calculated risks most of the time but there's no denying it I've been broken inside I used to pray, never did show me a sign when all I really needed was a quick moment of time live only to die, spit flows that ignite attempting to right wrongs and give hope to the blind if you saw what I saw you'd singe both of your eyes I persevere even if it is hopeless at times surgery's a must clinical psychology determined I am nuts I'm paranoid and the older I get the worst that I become living life without a single person I can trust