Off with Their Head American Poets 2099 & HRSMN

I be the first one to spit since I started it off
I drank a six pack of Bud Light and farted it off
The world is my fruit, I squeeze it for juice
And as soon as the beat loop I lock, load and shoot
Enemies of your enemy are your friends
But you will pay a stiff penalty for being friends with your enemy again
Ultimogeniture, as Hip-Hop's only known senator
Spit a better verse publishing editor
Success of dead creditor, et cetera, et cetera
Kneel before the emperor but kill him if he ever front
Beyond the Universe and back, you'll collapse
When I'm done with that, years after I'm done with rap
Subjugated to the mind and the energy that creates it
A space body in time is naked
Do not mess up when you verse your rhyme
Or you will be circumcised, your foreskin will look worse than mine
Mess up when you verse your rhymes and you will be circumcised
And given a slice of dingleberry pie
Mess up when you verse your rhymes and you will be circumcised
Your mind will be buried alive