This is a song about "Literary devices"

I'm the computer, the king of devices.

Welcome back to class, bitch, grab on to your glasses

For that that strict literary review, but at the end of the day its just something to work through

So ain't no future fuckin' youi ain't tha bitch ta love yacan't do a damn thang for you

I can construct torture devices not known to the middle ages

The irony in that is that i ain't even that, but you put it those pages

Spitting out literary imagery

Now i know a lotta styles, some see

Muffled from the outside weather by this literary leather

And so the muscle flow is something you can't get no muzzel for

Middle finger up, to the mother fucking law

Own devices clinging to jaws like you witnessed in saw