From the 8th Dimension, I rap, I rhyme, I write, I make, I art, i mess, I math, I perform, I feel, I share, I learn, I impress
Quannum Observation forth-sent by i, SM's, etx. Brain juice in the form of word-like structures.
call me PB, heard about my
rhyme spree?
my momma said amanda, then began the beat,
forever been a twisted sister and bit of a freak,
believe you me do i gots nice genes,
My doctor says I’m wack and
gives me pills I gotta pop
But deep within me creeps the
damnest thoughts I cannot talk
Since the mental break rage and
hate came awake
Even electro-shock therapy was
just a waste
Post-lobotomy my synapses still
on the grind
On the mic or on the page I
tear it up and cause abrasions,
a maniac on the track a
psychotic ticking time bomb
I’m strapped with rhymes for
miles, I’m flowin’ all the time
I attack and cause fractures
with my killer rhyme sprees
Can’t stop my sporadic emcee
represnting : east, west, Protect ya neck cause I’m after all who wack, in
fact,
I push nooses door to door like
people selling vacs
I’m straight stricken with the
sickness and its seeping from my core, ignore me me never or my clever bound
you under the floor boards, I roar, like an omen spreading ten fold put u in a
comatose so watch you're toez, cause.imma coming from below like mycelium grown
Since afflicted by the crypts,
the shit that I spit’s so toxic,
I make kids from my audience
need doctor visits
The speakers need bleach when I
speak my inner thinks
cause i'm vicious and
infectious, cause more than hookwinks
I'm possessed by a demon
since that day I damned the bitch
My tongues split, like a
serpent with a tight grip
on my mic spewing quick from
out my esophagus
My dead heart tears apart my
vocal box and flapping lips
