The waves from where you came, to energy you return
Cosmic crematorium whole dimension an urn
Sorry I got lost my brain addled from fumes of dope
Savage as a Khan, but I'm cultured peep Qublai's growth
Coons cloaked as true folks, gold plated fools quotes
Heat raise fall like chunks of glaciers you cool though
I did not need to see the devil lynch Fred
Strange noises in my crib make it live in my head
Judas's get elected now, politics is theater
At best a survey for the demons, really leading us
Freedom rings with a buckshot, fascists don't speak
Just parrot propaganda under guidance of elites
Master race theorists thats worshipping mediocrity
Bootstrap pullers subsidizing corporate property
Should have kept feeding me product made out of poppy seed
Perdue flipped like chickens off of us popping these
Shining city on a hill, pick a spot to seige
Blood suckers all fleas but you call em liege
Through the 16 I'm deified like images on Sistine
My cieling is God tier finger snap and it split sea's
Might raise a staff like bars measures and notes contained
Brain dead drool with a hunger, soul Novocained
So greedy we don't notice pain
To empathize amplifies so you'd rather be sold a game
Ignore it or abhor it, ignorance or harm
While you take stock in worthless carbon crystals in a charm
Diamonds only good for drill bits golds better
Conducting thoughts my brainstorming control weather
Harp how I pull strings, cupid how I pull strings
Soul snatching vagabond my colors swap like mood rings
Mostly black or blue until pink spreads
Mop protect A-alikes with mops you ain't seen dread
In megacity one I'm one over #2
Penthouse in dystopia, was it worth the view
Circle of few made half moons over death
Let that howl in night, cry for respect
No hook unless we square up, you fishing for hits
Turn my lines to a net sweep everything that exists
This my house, guess I'm Koresh, roof on fire
We don't need no water, in fact I brought extra lighters
Let that mother burn poor Rosemary her baby cursed
Life's mouth sound effect's like backing an 80s verse
Beatbox the cock hope the weak rock to your bops
But you'll still root in the waste till you detox from the slop
Deepak to a doc, credentialed but not real
Mind body and soul, or infections will not heal
My demons miasmic by nature it don't feel