They call me Syk, lyrically I'm second-to-none,
Got your head spun,
Soon as the first second's-begun,

Rhyme crazy as the devil having sex-with-a-nun,
Never needed a gun, (*##$ my only weapon's-my-tongue,
It sprays lethal-acid,

Burning mics and sheets-to-ashes,
Plus my beats-are-massive,
I could $#&@ing sneeze and release-a-classic,

Not that it's hard to achieve, when this industry's-a-vapid,
Cloning machine that only cares if the rate of p are rapid,
You must be sniffing keys-of-!@%!e,

If you think today emcees-are dope,
Please hang yourself and don't ease-the-rope,
'Til your body leans-and-slopes,

They're not even-close,
My rhymes will melt your mind like butter on a piece-of-toast,
So call Charlie, 'cause I bring fire-in-the-booth,

I'm at the highest I've ever been admiring-the-view,
Seeing all these little $#&@ing prats lying-to-the-youth,
You ain't villain, a real villains' attire-is-a-suit!

And yes I know fully well that the road-is-raw,
Never said I'm a guy who always abode-the-law,
But you know-the-score,

I've never been a persona-fraud,
Telling you how I'm hustling and living by a code-of-war,
I'm on a mission to commandeer-the-throne,

And have the bad direction that this game has steered-atoned,
Touched more topics than most rappers you hear-are-known,
To touch the whole time their career-has-grown,

In one year-alone,
You're nowhere near-my-zone!
I'm in outer-space!

About-to-break,
Light speed and vanish without-a-trace!
Out-my-face,

No omega beta or alpha-traits!
I ain't even human, I'm an alien that's out-of-place.


Chorus:

I got them lyrical-narcotics,

Shooting rhymes from the lab for minimal area profits,
This business
I get hysterical laughs off it

It's just a bunch of goons with typical-daft-topics!

This is them lyrical narcotics,

Rhyming skill's right at the pinnacle can't top it
Went to rap's birth, pulled the umbilical-parts-off-it,
Kicked the nurse, told her It's mine (*##$ and you can't stop it!.


Ain't nobody on my pedigree,
The horseman of Sleepy Hollow ain't as off his head-as-me!

Man I'm a predatory,
Killer surging with energy!
Already killed this game on Syko Therapy!

Now I'm putting the nail-in-the-coffin,
No failing-or-stopping!
Bun the industry that mess is looking stale-and-just-rotten,

Independent all day! I'll be prevailing-and-dropping,
These tracks until I've got a whole set of stadiums rocking
Til there's a aliens copping,

copies of these narcotics,
It's a sickness buried in me You can't-stop-it,
No amount of vast profits will,

Tempt me to branch off it,
Every beat my path-crosses,
I gotta burn harder than harsh-tropics,

My mind's a machine made to breach the limits,
Of this game, heart pumping at 90 beats per minute,
No oxygen in my body only ether's in it,

An artist through and through, cut me and I'll leak-acrylics,
$#&@ deep-with-lyrics,
Man I'm at the cavernous-depths,

Of insanity, This head's a $#&@ing hazardous-nest,
Of bars, beats, rhymes, basically a chasm-of-death,
For any emcees who wanna to test, how deep the savageness-gets!
A ravenous-vet,
Man for years I've been flaming-tracks!

Yet back in the day a lot of guys would sit and claim-I'm whack,
Now everybody wants a track, with my name-attached!
And #~!!@'s thrown at me like the $#&@ing sky's raining-cats!
But I ain't here for that nonsense,
It's Syko Records (*##$! Where the hits are just constants!

You know the deal, no need for question or conference,
Only the ill music is ever leaving my conscience.