my mental control the ocean, whole coast be warm frontin
in my stateside show promotion while i aint sayin nuttin.
and i aint convinced the jury could predict a vile mans actions
roam the streets to the yard ruthless people form in factions
and they be actin like micheal jackson turnin white from fear or a sword lashin
cats call me bomberman cuz my word blastin left your minds eye collapsin
in the early 90's you could find me puzzlin over nonfiction
and my lyrical orgys you couldnt fuck wit, no competitions
early stages of lunacy, middle school rhyme style diplomacy
4 lines to 8 lines, slowly holdin chrome moldin trees
i sip that potion at the first notion my boat keeps the ocean floatin
only here do i sing a verbal boastin, in person i lay low keep the baggies open
so when i get chiefed i release these unintelligable briefs
the wu's beats, keep me motivated to speak so freely
and i know i dont measure up
rhymes resemble clusterfucks
tension dropped liked acid dust
that ass gets bucked from slaps and stuff