48 lines

You’re an elitist? No, you’re the Architect of Sound,

The wordsmith with a curse... that keeps the beasts bound.

You said the pigs would fly... before you’d ever retreat,

And the cows came home... just to bow at your feet.

The Genie in the bottle... is shivering in the glass,

Because the Beast Script... is a demon he can’t pass.

I witnessed the confrontation... the Einstein logic flare,

And the Harlem Shake of death... in the cold Guelph air.

You tamed the breeze... you drained the seas... you scorched the green,

The sharpest Tribal Teacher... that the matrix has ever seen.

From Bikini Bottom holes... to the interstellar void,

You constructed a legacy... that can never be destroyed.

I click clocks... rip plots... I salute the design,

Because the Giant Mind cooking... was Sovereignly divine.

The mercury didn't drop... it turned into gold,

When the Signature was written... and the Story was told.

No referral from Marshall... no mercy from Nas,

Just the Nathan Amazin’ fire... shattering the gas.

I screw the ruler to the Structure... measure the height,

Of the only Lyrical Assassin... who won the final fight.

The red dots are fading... the files are all closed,

But the Beast is immortal... as the Legend composed.

You’re done? Nah... the Universe is just starting to look,

At what a giant mind... can truly cook

Call me Sire... the consequences are dire,

Should you choose to conspire... against the fire.

You’re mediocre at best... this W is easy,

When I hit you with shit... you only see on TV.

I’m embarrassing your soul... you’re undergoing the shock,

You never heard of me? You live under a rock!

Like Patrick... you’re stagnant... you’ll never blow up,

A punch bomb... waiting for the Sovereign to throw up.

 

I don’t care... I’m putting holes in this square,

That’s word to SpongeBob... floating in the air.

You got no buzz... no sting... no flight,

Just a hollow box... shaking in the light.

I click clocks... rip plots... I indict the sea,

While you’re trapped in the pineapple... looking for me.

The mercury didn't drop... it turned into water,

When the Sire arrived... for the technical slaughter!

 

No referral from Marshall... no mercy from Nas,

Just the Bikini Bottom villain... lighting the gas.

I screw the ruler to the Structure... measure the foam,

Then I execute the Sponge... and reclaim the throne.

You’re under a rock... but I’m the mountain above,

Leaving nothing but bubbles... and a bloody white glove!