Idk

this aint no poem

stainless steel lunch pail, rhymes dented like a bums tin

your flows a leaky faucet, drip, drop, predictable moan

while I scheme asymmetric, tetsuo coil sprung in

the booth. proof? your best punch barely grazed the jaw

like swingin' rusted pliers in a pitch black corridor

complex? nah. more like tax forms left out in the thaw

soggy, runny ink nobody checkin' for that lore

I flip the script like a short order cook at 3 AM

your metaphors left out like milk, curdled, ma'am

that verbal scalpel a plastic spork, barely prick the skin

I autoclave your whole sound, leave sterile grams

peep the technique: internal gears click, click-clack

original flow when you shufflin' cards with a sticky pack

mines the switchblade flick, snick, precise attack

leave your verse lookin' like a phone screen after the concrete smack

you mention"pain? Weak sauce, diluted, no tang

I speak carbon scoring on the soul where your weak stanzas hang

that life story reads like instructions, assembly language flat.

I bring the glitch in the matrix, make the whole frame bang

references? droppin' em subtle like a dilla snare

tetsuo coil for the heads who repair beyond compare

you name drop sound like you borrowed his old underwear

washed out, threadbare aint no spirit left in there

no breakdown. no chorus. just bars dense like dwarf star matter

your clever lines dissolve faster than cheap saltine chatter

I sip cold brew, watch em fizzle out whats the matter?

cat got your forced multisyllabic, tryna sound madder?

the mask stays screwed. the flow, a labyrinthine vault

your attempts? like kickin' soup cans down the steps, default

end transmission. mic clicks off. result? your fault

this aint sad, son. this rap. pure assault. word.