CHALLENGER'S RAP

• Catch a Lyrical Death, is what is say to this Lad As I snatch the last of his physical breath,snapped in a gasp, he'll ask
• whilst trances in deep, "is that, the spiritual yet?". planted in sleep, have'n em
• act a literal mess, as he is hypnotized by me, being forced to
• attack the liberal guests,
• for trade of your maid plus granted in keep partnered in fleet,
• I didn't hear a sound, did you put a crack in his brittle skull yet?
• better get quick with the faster increase,
• or do I have to naught more than ties just to attach a visual spec, on how to organize black market sales straight after you've killed more than four foreign guys by sticking your stored forks in eyes, served up with pork n rice, is sort of like what I feel like saying when you show me the charts are short a pie, and so fatso because of that shortage rise you're officially considered going to more than die
• And I'll still be the guy with the nerve to ask you to have a little respect!.
• For you could never get past miserable depths,
• everything I track's, spit-able, yes.
• for you can tell that the class is still at school, best.
• I don't need a Tool Kit, I'm a kit tool, quick to whip pistol if i see you've sniffed pills such as crystals, i will force you on your knees, at your best, a bitch still,
• Analytical man is sick with skill, crammed to fit the bill, even his fans have slipped a disc to kill threat's, thinking they can build rep on an uneven surface I'm beneath, surfaced, tilt step, now do you minors see what a real Rhymers lines achieve, and you?.
• sashed political fag, madder, principles lack, sadder minuscule pest I'll stab in a feud scrap just for Food scrap's, You all thought I'm just a dude that doesn't shoot back till you're laying in a pool of blood with a dozen new gaps
• It's like i'm sip'en on
• Rappers minerals, blessed.
• quick enough with the hands to snap a finger till said,
• is the information in formation
• That the, Imperials next.
• they plan a trace scanner to
• Match an aerial text,
• but yet in turn they fret n burn as lessons learned, not to trust you as you are now being exposed by
• The facts that you're at the exact burial set,
• Your whack tactics lack as much practice as your act did,
• You could only scratch the inner will, pressed,
• mean while I fill the lyric page turning them into a lytic phage, because these words are molecular to me, I put them together with sense so clever with those heavy bars you see, whilst you sit ashamed, a bitch, a lame, watching me hit a stage, sparking a spliff'a Blaze, as you're afraid a pitch is made, as I lit grenades
• so grip the rage or disengage into the distance, hidden well within the system made to hide little pussies like you from ever having lived a day,
• or Catch a Lyrical Death as I snatch the last of your physical breath, taking your soul out of your body, as it leaves leaks n odurs in wake of your decomposure, sneaks in closer
• as I flash, the Mirror will fleck,
• your existence within it's reflection, after I bodied you,
• Booting your mouth in back and forwards with my foot,
• sagittal, with anger grilled having ya bashed until you stop fuck'en breath'en,
• That's the signal, we'll rest,
• having mapped you at digital press,
• facts that
• you were quick to catch a "lyrical death".
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