Tonight I write/ In tune with the mic illuminating out the darkness the brightest light/
Beaming in directly through your satellite lacin' you with whateva' it is that gets you right/
None like the fight & the might of a warrior revolutionary givin it you like a street astroligist/
Mind detcet lines which bust full thrust, silver bullet lining...that means no rust taps spines leaving only faded white chalk outlines/
It's a lot of pussy rappers who should be put on display by a gynecologist/
Mine spreads and infects, ripping cats open like cadavers to detect and inspect/
Exclusionary visionary who holds a wicked pen's who's "status my vary" is always ready which is why he carries Dirty Harry' it/
Taste it, how nice the shit that we spit is more icy than the hottest jewelers flyest bracelet/
Floss Angeles come if you think you can handle this/
Hit with the "abbra kadabbra" manipulate matter, putting a final period to your rhyme ending as I turn my page & start a new chapter.