[Intro]
You lack the minerals and vitamins, vitamins
(The hard, the hard, the harder I rock)
[Verse 1: Yugen Blakrok]
Drawing bloody ink from the jugular
Take calligraphic action, higher magic
Dream journalist, the writing is automatic
Hidden mechanics, greet metallic smiles
With nerves of iron, I stay wired
Broad speaks, spits static
The black widow sleeps, sharp knives under the pillow
When wind blows, leaves mourn songs on weeping willows
Inaudible noise, frequencies concealed in the joints
Travel needle-thin and acupuncture pressure points
I'm all grunge tapes, moody blues, and gloomy Sundays
Bullet flows and verbal gunplay, word to my pun phase
Thoughts sit heavy, lyrically show you what a tongue weighs
Purple circular spots behind my eyes, like I sungaze
Attached to mothership like Norman Bates
Twisted necks like circus tricks for you, but the victims never wake
Common daily routines, like a collective's retracing of steps
Mentally dead, spiritually tryin' to connect
And musical notes hide the most cryptic of codes
Truth is a bitter pill, and I'm medicating
Generous doses, negotiating with the appetite
The human herd bustling over turnstiles
Concrete jungle hustle hostile
But there's nothing out here, dank alleys and beer
Heads are vacuum sealed in trapped cages, suspended in fear
I'm anti mind control and chemical warfare
You devils can't touch, I'm like a djinn-repelling salt sphere
Whose words multiply like microbes underneath the skin
Prone to capture gamma rays, gather energy, and kill on a whim
Expanding like the universe, I'm Artemis
Begetting self in thought without an opposite
The irony is obvious, but a broader definition's still to be found
Bias taints perceptions like a shrouded cloud
Step into my circus, I transform without a sound
Silhouette against the sun and make a crowd of running clowns
The kid's wild rhyme style, definitive, belligerent, militant
Known as hard-headed, and the urge never diminishes
Recite the last script from a chest chamber
Gaseous when I blast it, packs the power of a black fist
Far from pacifist, imbalanced when I flex the wrist
Paper bound like blood to ground, how the page absorbs the ink
Leaving footprints on mindscapes that incubate my imprint
Every chosen path is mapped out different
You lack the minerals and vitamins, vitamins
(The hard, the hard, the harder I rock)
[Verse 1: Yugen Blakrok]
Drawing bloody ink from the jugular
Take calligraphic action, higher magic
Dream journalist, the writing is automatic
Hidden mechanics, greet metallic smiles
With nerves of iron, I stay wired
Broad speaks, spits static
The black widow sleeps, sharp knives under the pillow
When wind blows, leaves mourn songs on weeping willows
Inaudible noise, frequencies concealed in the joints
Travel needle-thin and acupuncture pressure points
I'm all grunge tapes, moody blues, and gloomy Sundays
Bullet flows and verbal gunplay, word to my pun phase
Thoughts sit heavy, lyrically show you what a tongue weighs
Purple circular spots behind my eyes, like I sungaze
Attached to mothership like Norman Bates
Twisted necks like circus tricks for you, but the victims never wake
Common daily routines, like a collective's retracing of steps
Mentally dead, spiritually tryin' to connect
And musical notes hide the most cryptic of codes
Truth is a bitter pill, and I'm medicating
Generous doses, negotiating with the appetite
The human herd bustling over turnstiles
Concrete jungle hustle hostile
But there's nothing out here, dank alleys and beer
Heads are vacuum sealed in trapped cages, suspended in fear
I'm anti mind control and chemical warfare
You devils can't touch, I'm like a djinn-repelling salt sphere
Whose words multiply like microbes underneath the skin
Prone to capture gamma rays, gather energy, and kill on a whim
Expanding like the universe, I'm Artemis
Begetting self in thought without an opposite
The irony is obvious, but a broader definition's still to be found
Bias taints perceptions like a shrouded cloud
Step into my circus, I transform without a sound
Silhouette against the sun and make a crowd of running clowns
The kid's wild rhyme style, definitive, belligerent, militant
Known as hard-headed, and the urge never diminishes
Recite the last script from a chest chamber
Gaseous when I blast it, packs the power of a black fist
Far from pacifist, imbalanced when I flex the wrist
Paper bound like blood to ground, how the page absorbs the ink
Leaving footprints on mindscapes that incubate my imprint
Every chosen path is mapped out different
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