Jesus Christ, I can see in his eyes that he’s conniving.
I’ll be defiant till achieving highness like Leonidas.
I speak my mind and these demons are preaching silence.
You’re marketed like the industry’s slut, and I’ma treat you like it.
Get slapped up.
Kiss ass chump.
Get snatched up
for trying to distract us.
I’ll bury you, that’s established.
You know the shit that make you think that your shit’s whack? Well, this that shit.
Ditch that shit.
You’ll never create a legacy.
You’re the lamest lame will ever be.
They want me to name an enemy
but why would I end a career they ain’t even start yet? That’s a waste of energy.
Pay attention; we create our pedigree
While they especially are praying desperately to cage us mentally.
They eventually will taste the recipe of crazy tendencies
so page the deputy.
I’ll make sure they will credit me
When the sky falls down.
When the clouds on the ground I’ll be in the studio making the sound to it.
How could this be?
I’m the necessary evil when you’re telling all your people ’bout me.
And we don’t fuck around.
You don’t actually burn calories when you go run your mouth.
So why you sweating so hard?
I am the underground.
They see the roots in me.
They root for me.
My routine is being the rude teen.
Who’s he? “Token” I’m different than you chumps though.
Do I brag about money, clothes, dugs, hoes, while musically losing control?
Do I perform a 30 minute set while only using one flow?
That’s where I draw the line.
They’re loving the intellectual homicide.
Only really care about the dollar signs.
Anyone who is gullible qualifies.
They colonize all your minds and occupy each thought they find.
Everybody looking like a puppet to me but everyone too stupid to see it; I’m not surprised, nah.
I am the stop to this.
I am the prophet not only intent on profiting.
But still psycho to my psychologist.
He said the only person fit to battle me is my second personality,
so I bodied him.
Token is a visionary in a fairly twisted, scary, scripted parody.
And he carries emissaries fit to bury sissy fairies
in the very cemetery he’s getting married to the dictionary at.
That’s how he kills canaries – Bla!
I kill a rival on arrival.
Ever since I went viral they call me vile.
And I don’t use the word faggot anymore ’cause critics twist my words into a spiral.
Just tell them I’m feeling homo-cidal.
I don’t know polite.
Man I’m telling you rappers, you don’t need to keep up, you can look at me like a poltergeist.
If you need a ghost to write.
I’ll blow your mind.
If you don’t, I’ll blow your mind.
I ought to make them an ultimatum.
They automate them and control what they say.
That controls what you think. That’s controlling your day.
That’s controlling your life.
So cut your strings; I’ll show you the knife.
We’re needed in this game; I don’t give a fuck if they like it.