[Benefit]
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A microphone has grown out of my wristbone
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I've lost control of my vocal tone, spitting this sick poem
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I'm possesed by hip-hop's delivering spirit
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I fear it because my hand is constantly scribbling lyrics
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I can't eat, or even sleep in my bed
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Tormented because a beat will always creep in my head
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I can't listen to a drum loop without timing it
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Can't hold a conversation without rhyming it
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I walk down the street and my brain's known to rattle
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Because I'm thirsty as hell for a mother f**king battle
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I have no TV, already broke it in three
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Because I turn it on to see another whack MC
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I have lyrics in my head, they always stop and then go
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I constantly daydream about rocking a show
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Write my rhymes all my life as it begins and ends
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Broke as f**k cause I'm always out purchasing pens
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[Blitz]
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I'm the analyst, observe all angles of existance
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The last dime in the dollar, completing the sentence
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The ninety other pennies tossed through the wormhole
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Worthless as the bitch dancing naked on the pole
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I've seen twenty different worlds, at least eight dimensions
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I'm better than an ameteur, repends instead of pensions
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Who's the next worthless soul ready to stand up
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Thinking they got the Holy Grail but they're sipping the false
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cup
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Lately I've been spotting, on the words of the rotton
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With my looking glass, and hands to the upper class
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Groups of blinded ones gather at a steeple
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I label it an meeting place for meaningless people
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Coalitions of hard rocks living without purpose
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I sarcastically attack with the one man word circus
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A surface of slippery ice, a dangerous crack
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In the path of the ones who walk with their minds slacked
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[Lawson]
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Verge in the microphone, you begin to panic
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Because I'll make the crowd seem the like the Atlantic that your
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style is
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frantic
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It's so whack the store banned it
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Had people covering their ears saying I can't stand it
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My style is so fly you can't land it, I bring the supply because
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people
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demand it
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My rhymes stand alone like they were a bandit
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Three hundred and sixty degees and my CD's outstanded
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It's so smooth it feels like it was sanded
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Figures of speech make me smile like you were on candid
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I'll pass you like you're a hand-it
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When I come with rhymes that punch like a fist
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Taking your microphone so fast cracking the bones in your wrist
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Seperating you from me like mist
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Eliminate the competition, by spitting from every dimension
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mentioned
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Benching emcees for flenching as I build up tension
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Clenching the number one spot
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Leaving your body to corrode and rot, to corrode and rot
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[Rek]
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Pass me the mic, I'll ignite like the birth of a constellation
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Spit rhymes without hesitation, poetic devestation
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Hip-hop's my love and recreation
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Causing me to rise like elevation, syllables slice causing
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decappitation
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I hold the mic tight enough for strangulation
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Getting technical like a calculus algorithm is my precision
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Rhyme angle like pereputal vision
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Code like red, I drop lines like a clumbsy cokehead
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Judge like Dredd, countdown till the twelve hour has begun
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I'm the one, the chosen son, I'm an odyssey like space, 2001
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A new day has begun and the weight on my shoulder outweighs a
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ton
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And always when I rhyme, something always wicked this way comes
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-----------------
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Something Wicked This Way Comes
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Benefit |