gotta work on this too

Fuck the write up I'll write you up for a fucking cut up and then I'll cut you up with words spat out and sped up to rip the top of that creativity cap I'll cap this crap with a load of crap that will deny the rap to the banal. Learnt to adapt and learn to be made to be more I'll devour the floor that you walk on just to see you fall and I'll score the hall bounce off this wall gunna watch you wail in the fall seeing you fail makes me afraid to say that I always should have dug your grave just to make sure that you couldn't be saved it's what they say ironic justice my fist was full of solstice summer in the heavens I'll defend the heavens to the heathens in any matter I'll meet the maker when I find the faker in the race I'll create the emaciated grace just to fuck with your undisclosed face. Can't see it but I can feel it and it's real in its unreal reality which proclaims a diversity. Poison tipped death threats I'll have your head on bread before you're pronounced dead it's a mental incapacitation that's gonna take you before aggravation and assault deals with what's left of your body that God wrought. This isn't sport there are no losers or winners ain't no spectators that be grinnin' when you're for to the floor spinning no foundation to keep your centre and I'm deliberately sinnin' as long as you're being driven I'm living for the moment when I can take my time to deliver a final killin' rhythm.