What's your station identification
I spark a mental cypher lasting down through revelations
Take a trip into my mental cypher I get hyper
Sniping ass MC's seem to get me higher
Like the buddah bless the cess when I'm smoking
Hawaiian when I'm rhymin cuz there ain't no time for joking
Just lyrical bliss from the depths of the abyss
Rotating lyrical rhythms like the motions of the wrist
On a fag, I rag, wack MC's like Maxi
Pads, you can't see me
Intellectually, you shallow, mentally, you're just starving
I'm rollin on em like Calvin Butts up in Harlem
Wit metaphors, fuck a nine and clip
I make a rapper trip like white chicks in horror flicks
Identify your station or ?adjustment?
I'm transmitting, I'm giving MC's division, through diction
Cut em half, check the math, like magician
Conflicting pain on membranes
I'm running shit and killing flows like some wet dreams
I maintain, no static feedback when I attack
Like Shaquille, oh so neal down as I appeal to the masses
I slash kids to ashes and dust, get strucked
As I construct skills that build, I don't be giving a fuck
Like chastity, my compacity's unlimited
Wit no gimmick, kids can't figure my structure like pyramids
I'm spirited like psychic and dead men resurrected
My wisdon's like prisms when light gets reflected, check it
My lyrical missiles, like heat suckers seeking
Never weakening, feeding off wack rhymers give me strength
Then I lenghten, wit no measure
Cuz I'm the ruler of styles, I rocket, the unidentify flowing object
Time for a station, identification
Wack rappers, open up your eyes, time for lyrical elevation
But you can't handle when I channel
Entering through mental pane
