Lyrics:

Politically incorrect, the verse make you shake like tourettes syndrome
Set the stage on fire, blowing the wet to dust
Burn your upper decks scorch with the arsenal
Climb right up, head up put a torch to your article
Son, I wrote that type of shit in 8th grade,
On the lunch table, feel the shit outerspace make you blaze more mature
Lyrical raining a war
Rhymes flood and leave blood staines on the floor for sure
Alfabetically putting together melodies raw
Planetar I'm spitting quickly and swelling your jaw
Banned from TV my CD skit
Grip mics and yo cast don't wanna see me flip
Belive me bitch q-dimension leave/ly / lead be these hits with a&r's they fall
When they read these scripts, you see me with
Crypt, drew, size and deZ in the skies I flash
Then we paralyze the rest

We came through to give you what you want
Q-dimension in the back, five sixers in the front
Destro/ came to give you what you want, kingsize I gotcha back,
Yo plan I got the front

Castro al bias destroy all choice
Yo I'm sick of these niggers stomping out of annoi
My thoughts go back to head like bullets
Shattering your consonants now the rest of your frame is left useless
Chance you take fucking with this q the minivet
You stomped down, covered in blood pits of sweat
If you ever make me run again, and chase you clown
Call me sadie 8 rounds to the back for a pound
Lets walk, blind the light, turn night to day, day to night, humble gat
People think my lifestyle is trife, let's see how trife it is
When I set off the apocalypse, and the eternal dragon rises again
Make a wish, extra
Just hurting niggers on the regular, snap necks break legs arms rip excetera
No need for me to brag about my superhuman capabilities, your whole team
Was just my example you keep the memory

Yo it's the mighty, seismologist causing apocalypse
The sun can't define how hot it get
Burn the populous, no way in hell you can conquer this
Honourous osofagus rhymes who capture hostages
Bring 'em to the world where MC's are verbally vicious,
Concerning to earn you where I smack ? continuous
Bear witness to rapfold trying to raise my platou
Get on attack mode, and jab yo skull
From the stage to the back row, my sound saves souls,
Explodes to the game of hiphop and takes control
And supernatural tongues spit that makes the sun split
Ethylene b-hits to make your lungs slit
Bleed to death punk while I see you when I kickit
But beware I still kill tracks with big stares
You proceed to a open mic, what for
Planet Syze and Dez direct from earths core