let's see now you're missing all the magic
just tip your cap and let me get a crack at it
valiant and eloquently mammoth to average
and the games gonna change when it's slapped with my tactics
I'm

back in the city and spitting shit slicker than slick rick or biggy
abound in this vicinity
level of profound that astounds without a tinny
so let me get busy on the beat
it's like

sigmund freud fell out of his void
and made a choice to see the world in a new discourse
The bab as an artist imparting the path for martyrs
and crafting a raft for artists to uncover where their heart is

and as hard as it is to see past the art of masterful Dan just beating on his chest
you'll see i'm ripping off the flesh to uncover a heart
it's a new start, in the legacy of martyrdom

spitting prophecy every time i'm on the beat
so every single minute is another premonition
and then every single syllable is part of spitting syllabus
and half the shit i spit is from my lid, not even written man

holy shit
keep on going for the thrill of it
and keep on showing everybody what it is I do with it
and I can keep spitting funky rhythm rhymes every night
till you decide that I'm the guy that you wanna vibe with

we can hit these blank canvases and magically adapt them into
something that could manage the masses
put the map on our back and still keep it relaxed
and we can freestyle jam or grab a pen and a pad

whatever
we do it better, endeavour to keep steadily pedalling
elevating to states of higher grace in the mindstate
rhymes that we vibe on a friday
shifting paradigms i know you feelin the fire

we got
10,000 hours empowering every ballad of prowess
that we pushing out deep from the belly
and coming out of the mouth and machiavelli himself
is bound to cower in the face of insurmountable power

I know you feeling me
I know you hearing this level of my pedigree
you know the games got a sedative of ketamine
and in the game there ain't a play a single step ahead of me

I got the beats to get the cheddar and the best of me
the recipe to keep me ripping raps to match incessantly
parked upon the mezzanine but passing past the level 3
and part and parcel of the art is blasting on the pedal gee

steady dripping with siddhis and straight sitting
the mission of indivisible living the state of witnessing
deepest volition as liminal apparitions flipping wicked
hitting switches and opening up the vision
are you with it