Melancholy flows, more you look, depeer that it goes - took a turn, flipped that sorrow into gold. Let it go – the power - cause it holds. Take a minute, replenish what’s in your soul. This is so relevant to those prosperous; if it’s not for us, we would not promise. Flows phosphorous, only God stop us’ no mercy - sweet lord, it’s on us. You see, I was born to come rumble. Had no handouts, my steps do not stumble. No humility, I know is toxic; the hex hypnotic, a test for your optics. If you saw the light, would you be honest? I can restore your sight through these sonics. How many times you pray to hold the throne? I’ve known to hone the power, gotta be stone. I done seen fakes and clones they not cunning; if the shoe fits, then you better start running. IT’S A MARATHON YOU BASTIDS. You better watch the throne before it’s taken. You couldn’t tip the boat, let alone shake it. Your flows lack the growth, there’s no patience. Sickening - your doctorates cannot save this; top of the totem pole, you in the basement. It’s so blatant; these kings have paved it. Please watch your kit before we break it - cats too sweet to rumble ontop the pavement. Try to contain it - I bet you flake it - I’ve watched your aching - welcome to the awakening. Take note of the Gs you have forsaken. “Oh”s and “whoa”s when we flow become contagious. These the classics. You can’t back it. Step on these here kicks, might get erratic. You fraudulent, your core remains plastic. Sheep is what I see, this test you cannot pass it. I done seen fakes and clones they not cunning; if the shoe fits, then you better start running. IT’S A MARATHON YOU BASTIDS. Don’t you drop the ball, try to recall a moment when you could brawl. This race – cannot withdraw. These kids look Autumn when they fall. Get ya costume right, it’s your closing curtain call. I see why you’d wish to switch sides I’d diss, but this might relist your insight Bear sight to the masters of your all, We tip and break walls Tongue twist and frost thaw. Unbreakable – we know ways to move You best pray to improve, got game to view I must say that you got bout three seconds to dip, we chip your crisp lip, Smiths crinkle when we flip. These the classics. You can’t back it. Step on these here kicks, might get erratic. You fraudulent, your core remains plastic. Sheep is what I see, this test you cannot pass it. I done seen fakes and clones they not cunning; if the shoe fits, then you better start running. IT’S A MARATHON YOU BASTIDS. Catch ya step steppin to the lanyon predator, You ain’t a regular, get jacked up for your cellular, Let me set it off, the goons are bouncing coming through, Watch your moves and your boo when you strollin thru the Canberra Zoo And light a candle too, For all the flames I blew, That’s lights out for you, I'm sorry bout your crew, I did not have to do, The deep mechanics of a demon dressed in white robes The genius cackles though naive and untraveled You cannot hunt the snakes without some dirt clothes, Killin’ a felon and placin’ the top of his head right on my mantle

Written by Tim Bowyer