Freestyle Audio #2

[complexity]

I’m sick of these groupies, I should be euthanized//
I’m an abusive guy who shall lye, buried in a suit and tie//
but walked around scrutinized for wearing a backrounds hat//
and spitting the truest rhymes music wise since 2 pac died//
they call me a loser, who sits on a computer, I get crusified//
probably becausing in junior high I was just cruising by//
viewing cutie pies with blueisth eyes looking at their boobie size instead of buying school supplies//
rude at times, and I’m scary still, even on my death bed//
very ill like a meth head, sharing pills, until I’m left dead//
I’m a player, picking up dimes, like aaron dill//
on central hill, rentless with tremoundous skill//
my pen game is extensive and its meant for thrills/
its senseless to defend my mental illls//
becaues when it comes to pussy, I fill more holes than dentist drills//
chill, this is just the build up, I will marry kill fuck with any real luck
like a 90 year old pilled up shrilled slut at bridge club you still suck!
I’ll come back with anything, you grill up, I’ve been spitting like a terrorist
I don’t care if its chicken or aspargus I’ll have your throat close up, like you were sipping on some dairy quick//
I should listen to my therapist, I’m unamerican because I don’t believe in trump//
dog, I ain’t voting for harris, but I ain’t joining a senior club//
I’d rather smoke your reefer, but you can’t get weaker bud//
I’ll have you seizing up, bleeding blood when I beat you up/
screaming when I come with a deeper cut you can keep your blunt//
I’m a fucking genius, Ian’s rough, but his raps are meaner//
he’s a nasty creature like a black retreiever with an active fever//
let’s collab, you can have half a feature, I’m fast as crackhead tweaker//
with a vacuum cleaner or a new york cab with a taxi meter//
I’ll stab a leader, I’m a crafty teacher, but I’m talking bluntly
its often scummy but I’ll have you missing like the front teeth of a millinocket junkie//
a lot is funny when these guys squander money on girls all but ugly//
tall and chubby, small but slutty like grind-all, I made my pole land//
in that pussy, not the country, my whole plan//
was to leave them pussies dripping like pots of hunny//
they were hanging off my balls, like when pig lost his undies//
right now, its awesome, sunny, just got back from Boston, it was rotten-muggy//
full of smog and cruddy, too much alcohol and problemed junkies///
the city was useless like having michael j fox as a joggin buddy//
when I was walking, I’m like do not touch me, its safe to bet//
if I make a theat, its real, I won’t waste a breath to break your neck//
have you seeing stars like that movie Jason X, become a space cadette//
play roulette with your life and pray to death you lay to rest, the dice stays on red//
its just a waste of led for me to say it, but it feels like one of our whiskey nights//
could be a travis t and I ain’t talking the twisted type when I grip the mic//
with a vicious strike, I’m to pissed to write, my fists are tight//
even though I’m quick with knives I’m ready to switch to a pistol fight/
shining some interminnent light on a distant site from a sufficient height//
Because I’m wicked nice like when I’m working with Trisha Wright/
listen, right, I’m not slipping, I don’t trip on ice, like colton living this terrific life//
when rhe flips his bike after he hits the pipe in the pits tonight//
fuck its six or seven, I need something quick to bite, cook up some nothing burgers//
me and trav are just some money earners that learned from the dusty corners//
of Millinocket, with a bunch of drunks and burgulars, chumps and churchers//
so we are just becoming worser, pushing eachother further like double murder///
a couple lurkers, some troubled perverts, when we get jump up like hurdlers//
that’s why we always put our cock in the same holes like construction workers//
got to confront our urges, like body bags, we are just wrong to snatch//
need to come with calm attacks, can’t be going through lingerie like mott or johnny mack//
at a laundry mat in a pontiac with a thoughtless act like a dog attack//
its pool we put our balls in fast because we always stay up like an insomaniac//
I guess, I’m non exact, rip to jon, its an honest fact, can I sin?
Ever since a child I’ve been tormenented so menancing with venom//
pencil pen full of addrenaline, its so tempting to always be mind bending, then again//
I’m a specimen, that excels without settling, in excellence//
accepting the present tense as I exit to the deck, bitches just let me in//
and I’ll let you know you will never win, that’s like betting against stephen/