Blacks - Godmind

they said, kid.. sweet.. sick schemes for "sixteen".

is he out for blood? yup.. the 'tick's seen.

I aint saying he bit beasts. kissed sheep.

squashed til he'll fit in this "game" like split-screen.

my album drops aint out for props.

I might rime and get birds; my albatross.

I beast deep with vigor;

..'court'ships' with scylla.

I'd rap about honeys but still diss the hive mind.

he's blind to the bright shine, I aint need to hide mine.

rome wasn't built in a day; it was night time.

he ought to alter his account; apply hindsight.

it's kinda like he got hexed, I got perplexed; left vexed.

but I'll come back with a point, and it's blessed.

like a parsifal thing, not a cardinal sin,

and I get that I'm meant for remarkable things.

 

I'll take K' with lines like they're ket' meant for death's horse.

"biggest regret"? ..I only wish that I'd said more.

his name's kinda tricky to flip, for real.

and since K's square, sales might make a mil'.

his name's hard to flip so I'll call the guy.. mordecai;

go ham-an'.. he aint bow down in this court of mine?

 

"die".. like.. one dice; rap's a game.

"glamour"? "fame"? that's a waste.

packed a base but sat afraid the pact debased?

plans've changed from cavalcades to canceled trains?

never that.. the pen'll stab

a fresher pad.. no epitaph.

 

it's kinda like he "never made it";

demonstrated gettin' pasted.

I aint claim to judge him..

if I "blow", he'd trump-it.

I could break any safe haven's gates and the last tower. shards shower.

quick visit.. starved power to the alarms for a half hour.

his "biggest regret"ll be dissing the best..

my "biggest regret"? ..giving respect.

I'm kidding in jest with the battlerhymes..

like.. so now instead I'm out to patronize.

I aint fight the right pros, so find time to write prose.

why though? guess the end's approach is quite close.

I'll stay true to the roots.. spread growth like rhizomes..

with packed drops, like pinecones.. on good buds, like trichomes.

 

I aint workin on pros here; I still find time for prose instead.

just peer to this abyss, and insist you know its depth.

if I "die" before I get to the end, it's pretend.

just hitting my shadow or splitting the deck.

I aint claimed "fame".. my lyrics could do.

stars sonned behind front lines; midwich cuckoos.

"glamour and fame" aint define my horizons..

I see things. seething? the shine blinds like diamonds.

finish in-sight? fly, like the earth's shook.

move in to eat when I die, like this worm would.

don't test child.. no sterile wordplay..

with ill skills still killin it like the first phage.