{*scratched*}
"At night, the open mic be invitin me to rhyme" {*2X*}
"Open mic, I bring out that boxcutter"
[Thirstin Howl III]
I'm accustomed to abiding by freestyle penal code
My rhymes are like long drives goin down a scenic road
Taught discipline through paragraphs, walk backstreets and narrow paths
My kicks were dirty and my pants sagged like I had no ass!
Flippin styles that'd pioneered in the Space Age
Writin your first paragraph, I'm already on my eighth page
For the way you write your rhymes, I could tell you never really made grades
Goin through life miserable, hatin yourself on payday
A pleasant plea, Thirstin in parentheses
I heard a mute man mention me to a blind woman on Vescey Street
Urged to leave gats alone in memory of Pumpkin and Faster Poems
Wouldn't want my moms to identify me with half the dome!
A toast, with high priced Sangria
Battle the best mother{fuckers} and whoever they bring here~!
Long term, short durations
I even put freestyle under special skills when submittin an application!
Flows, that can't be followed by asthma patients
Got a deathwish? Here's his extension, ask for Satan
The rap languages me and more, findin subjects in Singapore
Impressin MC's who swore to God they had seen it all~!
{*scratched*}
"At night, the open mic be invitin me to rhyme" {*2X*}
"Open mic, I bring out that boxcutter"
