DEFENDER'S RAP

• I’m digging in the crates with a wrist into my blades,
• A myth up in this place bitches in my faces,
• Challenge quickness to a race you’ll never get with the pace,
• The cosmos are my place skipping comets across the lakes,
• Conjuring your fate your talk is a disgrace,
• I’m built to erase better wear a rubber bitch or get aids,
• Cuz my words are sick since birth I spit out writtens for days,
• My first words were written bomb shells lifting to space,