Brisk Cypher
• Written by ribs
I'm pretty sure a rise will be on my horizon
I wanna go global, competition of Verizon
Splice a few pig genes with those of a hawk
And I think we'll see the date when my hit's at the top.
A dead-end dropout, my future ain't the brightest
That might be the reason that my skin is the whitest.
If you're looking for an underdog, then here he is
with a stone-cold flow like Medusa's period
You're a young dreaming teen and I'm a monster, Freddy
I'm hurricane Katrina, you're a Mississippi levy
Your game is so flaky I could frost it and sell it
and your flow is so crappy everybody can smell it.
However...don't leave, I'm not done with this
Flow like lava, hold the mic with oven mitts
I spit so fresh it's a synonym for winter mint
Feelin' spicy hot with a little bit of cinnamon
Squashing so much beef that my shoes have a burger smell.
Runnin' on my wrath I don't need to use a Duracell
I started from the bottom and I just started climbin'
When I pick up my pen there's no use in even tryin'
Droppin' secret clues when I choose so you'll lose sleep
Better lock your door, I'm on the loose on loose-leaf
Writin' rhymes as tight as the collar of a priest is
About to graduate, this is my lyrical thesis.
You think I'm an amateur, you're foolishly wrong
Imma hang you in a shed, that's where tools belong.
Imma top-notch fighter, an ignited lighter.
Wounding you as deep as an insightful writer.
Test me, press me, Imma leave you guessing
Every single day I'm makin' moves like a chess-piece
All I got's one shot, cocked in a locked Glock
Bought from a stocked shop running low on cheap talk.
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About the Artist
ribs
Member since February 26 2015