weaponries

I aint talkin' wit spirits, but mirrors been crackin' since I was eleven

split personality trip, grip the mic like a weapon

sreams been steppin' out my sleep like its Inception

im not a prophet, im the product of crooked scripts and half written losses

look what trauma costs us, I been tryna box it

but my mental got more locks than a locksmith

I aint prayin', but im noddin' when the glock spit

If im honest, I aint healed, I just learned to crop it

like a photo of my pops, mid swing with the belt

now I swing on the pen till the pain feel felt

saw a ghost in the booth, it said you next

told him, cool, hit record, and exhaled death

im the riddle in the scripture, the crack in the pew

god heard my bars and said who gave you this view?

I rap like im five layers deep in the womb

born in a tomb, now I talk in typhoon loops

spit slick as black ice on a casket route

and got more styles than the pastor got doubts

mirror cracked, I see myself in pieces

tryna patch my past while the present decreases

write sins in chalk, then I rain down thesis

life aint fair, its just layered in leases

aye, split glass, how I see my fate

If I die now, bury me with every take

no peace treaty, no handshake, just breaks

im the one they call when they need hell to shake

broke bread with the devil then taxed him interest

my pen got demons beggin' for repentance

I spit vintage, like a soul stuck in a tape hiss

spazzin' with the syntax, syllables get pistol whipped

I never had fans, just gods who mimic

I been judged by the way I pivot

every line feel like a suicide mission

cuz I bleed in ink, and my minds the witness

god told me chill, I told him prove the physics

If stars explode, then so can critics

betelgeuse bleeds out in slow transitions

so I write till I burst like supernova visits

you aint shit, but I been in the same war rooms

talkin' to my shadows in dark lit boardrooms

industry tryna clone me, but they glitch the source

im the missing line in your artificially inseminated corpse