Feel The Beat

[Verse 1]
Beat bashin', mosh-pittin' - I'll spit fatal
Autobiographical: we spittin' Aesop's Fables
Smashing you with iron fist, get the gist? We ain't leaving
Bass-beating speaker boxes 'til they drums is bleeding
Eatin' rappers lying, relying on punchings
I'll rip the skin off your chest and call it a wardrobe malfunction
In the mix of innocence, my diligence is passionate
I haven't seen a crash in a dreams, it seems you've mastered it
Asshole, I lasso flows, trash folks with manhole covers
Spit poison-tip arrows from crossbows and fold your mother
Brother, sister, cousin, the fam can get it if they want it
Most opening acts are crap, only bearable if I'm blunted
That's why the ritual's imminent, I'm dissing you if you're feeling it
It's two or three shots just to sit through that bullshit
I'm disgusting with rhythm, give me a pen and a pad
I'll script some shit that'a have your crew running back to the lab

[Hook]
Masterful, menacing, awful, ridiculous
Spit-boxer, poet, show-rock, ridiculous
Storyteller, ego-crusher, cypher-spitter, mind-bender
Backpacker, slap a wack rapper cause I'm Ill (Ill)

[Verse 2]
Second verse if you can take it; so what if you can't?
Never retire, set forest fires around your camp
I'll rave and rant, you can chant while I'm bombin'
Raising spirits with lyrics like a Cherokee Shaman
Draining your memory banks, enemy sank my ship once
Remedy: twenty shots of ink until the paper gets drunk
Pen lashing, leaving welts on rappers' backs with asteroid belts
Crashing plane, Jane spittin' the sames as the names melt
Water under the bridge, slaughter kids with no motive
Except the fact they can't rap and my personality's explosive
Cop my album, you can learn a few things
Take your pick cause out of the five I'm live on some fly shit
Unforeseen got lyrics, Write to Death, now Off the Clock
Celestial; you're passing out demos, I'm depressing you
Don't look at me like Ill can't get ill
I spill skill that leaves you squirming like the sound of a dentist drill