Freeform Flow
Posted: Thu Sep 02, 2010 11:26 am
As read in my plot synopsis I create rhyming synapses/
Inside of my train of through cuz it’ll usually relax me/
Lettin razor sharp lines graze heads like hatchets of Apaches/
Writin gems for the experts that sprays shards at the lackys/
Attackin generals wit general generations of syllable/ lacing and sensationalistic songs, thinking they’re pivotal/
Meanwhile I’m ticklin brains wit multiple tentacles at intervals/ that accelerate blood flow in hypotension patients ventricles/
I print promising prose that continues breaking down simpletons/
That serve less competition than amputees enterin Wimbledon/
Riddlin twisted enigma’s the Riddler would fiddle wit/
Let alone cats comin wit styles they haven’t even assembled yet/
Workin for Bill Gates, writin them mirco and soft documents/
That catch wreck so harsh they cause Gieco to have lost confidence/
So for fun, I like crush idols and toss monuments/
Since my addiction to knowledge lowers my tolerance for incompetence/
Overpopulation of wrongs consumes all that is right/
Walkin wit eyes closed, hopin the heart can find the light/
The meek wander, the fighters follow my archetype to farther heights that martyrs mighta reached in their harder life/
The ground work laid by self-made lyrical slaves/
Is tainted porcelain as FM stations shit on their graves/
A voice of true opinion isn’t given a cent to be paid to be played that contradicts this cancer in its developin stage/
Flow is too extreme for common hurricanes to emulate/
It hurts to gain my mental weight that hemorrhages can’t simulate/
Now folks try explorin my outer limits by researchin my interface/
Forgetting that the unknown is known as a predator’s dinner plate/
Suspending cold dishes of revenge over gluttons/ for punishment that need revise renditions they comin wit/
I hunt wit accurate advances, most steady guessin and rummagin/
Plummeting below nothingness just to find pun from another hit/
Singled out is the run of the mill gunner wit steel that still thinks his wordplay is loaded and cunnin wit skill/
Oblivious to fact that I when I cut at the heels its becomes apparent that no opponent appears stunnin in fear/
I’ve taken Cosmos Lingua, rearranged the basic and made metaphor magic that ranks me as Dr. Strange’s replacement/
Now after my confrontations, cops call Spangler and Venkmen/
Hopin they can catch my victims, quarantine and contain em/
On the other hand, you can’t hold me or control me like a renegade shinobi solely sought on drillin phonies wit no solace or consoling only hostile forces taught via Obi-wan Kenobi, used for foe and fraud disposing/
Latest holographic grammar reactor with radio active wavelengths of sound that administer tone detachment/
So crony’s antics of talkin trash can get compacted/
As repercussion for assumin they could outmaneuver my tactics/
Inside of my train of through cuz it’ll usually relax me/
Lettin razor sharp lines graze heads like hatchets of Apaches/
Writin gems for the experts that sprays shards at the lackys/
Attackin generals wit general generations of syllable/ lacing and sensationalistic songs, thinking they’re pivotal/
Meanwhile I’m ticklin brains wit multiple tentacles at intervals/ that accelerate blood flow in hypotension patients ventricles/
I print promising prose that continues breaking down simpletons/
That serve less competition than amputees enterin Wimbledon/
Riddlin twisted enigma’s the Riddler would fiddle wit/
Let alone cats comin wit styles they haven’t even assembled yet/
Workin for Bill Gates, writin them mirco and soft documents/
That catch wreck so harsh they cause Gieco to have lost confidence/
So for fun, I like crush idols and toss monuments/
Since my addiction to knowledge lowers my tolerance for incompetence/
Overpopulation of wrongs consumes all that is right/
Walkin wit eyes closed, hopin the heart can find the light/
The meek wander, the fighters follow my archetype to farther heights that martyrs mighta reached in their harder life/
The ground work laid by self-made lyrical slaves/
Is tainted porcelain as FM stations shit on their graves/
A voice of true opinion isn’t given a cent to be paid to be played that contradicts this cancer in its developin stage/
Flow is too extreme for common hurricanes to emulate/
It hurts to gain my mental weight that hemorrhages can’t simulate/
Now folks try explorin my outer limits by researchin my interface/
Forgetting that the unknown is known as a predator’s dinner plate/
Suspending cold dishes of revenge over gluttons/ for punishment that need revise renditions they comin wit/
I hunt wit accurate advances, most steady guessin and rummagin/
Plummeting below nothingness just to find pun from another hit/
Singled out is the run of the mill gunner wit steel that still thinks his wordplay is loaded and cunnin wit skill/
Oblivious to fact that I when I cut at the heels its becomes apparent that no opponent appears stunnin in fear/
I’ve taken Cosmos Lingua, rearranged the basic and made metaphor magic that ranks me as Dr. Strange’s replacement/
Now after my confrontations, cops call Spangler and Venkmen/
Hopin they can catch my victims, quarantine and contain em/
On the other hand, you can’t hold me or control me like a renegade shinobi solely sought on drillin phonies wit no solace or consoling only hostile forces taught via Obi-wan Kenobi, used for foe and fraud disposing/
Latest holographic grammar reactor with radio active wavelengths of sound that administer tone detachment/
So crony’s antics of talkin trash can get compacted/
As repercussion for assumin they could outmaneuver my tactics/