Just hopped out of the crash, still alive, how did it happen, I
asked the driver, he's gone off two tabs of acid,
but me, I stay blasted off rhymes, I'm always packin' a pen, you stuck in the pen for blastin' off nines,

I'll blast 16's, freeverses and freestyles, every single bar I spit will make you feel less than worth-while via your existence,
call me the brilliant of persistence, makin' an atheist turn christian,
but I ain't talkin' about that, I'm talkin' about my back and how many times it's been stabbed by the people I'm interacted, with,

it's inevitable, the pain, so I write to stay sane,
like NICK cut off my PINKY but I still got the BRAIN,
and to the rap !@$)s that get paper, and live a "hard life", with the only way to get by is with "hard labor",

when you ask me to tone it down, I'll look around,
instead of leaving a hole in the Earth, I'll $#&@in' leave a crater,
big enough for all the wackness, you don't spit sick,

according to my graph you're off axis,
and for you the stars will never align,
you got a better chance of fixin' Miley's life.