BUILDING BLUEPRINT

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Whack Industry

I'm back up on this motherfuckin' track
Half the shit stuck in the industry is whack
Rappers lack tact, and that's a fact, so I stack
Words when I come n' attack, my mouth's a cracked semi automatic
Actin half' erratic to break the static with my idiosyncratic
Tactics of spewing out words, mewling out but thirds, of what my mind unnerves
Halfway sadistic binds in my nerves, masochistic rhymes that unwind as my dirge
Because I'm always on the urge/ >^of insanity, a titanic manic spree of calamity
This is my life, I juggle thirty knives, then struggle as I writhe
See, I'm not like these other rappers, they're just mouth flappers claimin' they're snappers
Stackin' words on track, absurd nerds gone whack, thinkin' they pack any bit of flack
Till I show 'em tact and how I stack it, did I not tell you my mouth's a semi automatic
Got a 30 ot 6 in between my lips, and when I spit the trigger slips to deliver quips
That are equipped to strip you right and bare, cause no other brother can compare
Some chase rabbits, but I smother the hare, it's just another daily affair
Busted in my head, now I'm rusted and I'm dead
Instead call me the terminator, yeah the vermin exterminator
Cause rats in hats are all I see in the industries
Bitches gettin' fat up off my cheese, it would really please me
To freeze the competition, then seize and start my mission

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