i step up to the mic ready to take the shot
leave it all behind dangerous
someone call the cops
there is murder in progress relax its  only my voice making everyone eat there fucking words
with no choice

push me again and I'll close the casket
burying mcs like a scene that is tragic fantastic
I spit fire I'm the one that's estatic  
my only desire is setting the stage a blaze burning plastic . I inspire shutting down them liers its automatic
just call me the prophecy I'm coming clean psychologically nothing wrong with me

so when u see me passing by dont be afraid to open your eyes cuz
I'm too quick to slick erase this memory while still making you my bitch
its that simple turn up the beat and hit the cymbals. 
Shelshocka is out.just wait for the sequal

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allets's picture

I Need To Write The Answer

to this poem: I Always Wanted To Be Somebody's Bitch


It would start: I tried everything, wrote ad, sent in applications, but I got no reply, not a sigh to relieve the absence of knowing the definition by intuition or recognition that to be one is to excel and know the definition of precognition.


And you know how much I love to rhyme - u do it so well and with hard lyrics matching a hard set of tom toms. Nice! slc