Originally Posted by VERITAS
You ain’t seeing me like Mr. T’s neck:
VERITAS:
The psychological, the metaphysical, the warrior:
And any obstacle neva stops the pinnacle’s thought euphoria.
I whip a Challenger, so rip the calendar, cuz I’m outside of space and time,
400 horse traveler, clip every caliber, come collide with the great Divine.
To flex on the net aint shit son, I mastered life by the time I was thirty,
The 9th diffusion of consciousness: Motherfucker VERITAS aint earthly
Inter-dimensional warlord equipping plasma swords, lavish words, and phantom hordes;
These average bores can’t fathom wars I ravage boards with a savage Lord’s master force
The Last Star-fighter-carbon-fiber-Hemi-driver-rhyme provider:
The flow of my saliva pipes a preggo bitch with it’s dick dipped in Godiva.
I got that Iron man, call me Cal Ripken the survivor, givin dirt naps in Peruvian lava,
Peep my Nasdaq’s in a sauna amidst exotic fauna, making ya bitch sing Hakuna Matata.
Bet my dick stretch her in pleasure, skeet on her eyepatch, make her wait to taste treasure
My Swagnum P.I. mustache rubs her clam’s hatch, b squirts until u need a tub to measure
parasite worms spread germs and brains squirm, my Psych-Ops turn oceans to rain drops
Real life Psychologist, so know I got cash to burn, and “I won” like the face of Cyclops.
Drip divine drops of sun spots, electroswagnetic pulses implode terrestrial infrastructures,
Make her thirsty till my cum stops, V stay in a bitch mind like extraterrestrial abductors.
Got carrots like extra-vegetable lovers, dressing cleaner than your funeral’s ushers
Eye contact ya bitch and bring beautiful blushes, while u focus on writing pitiful punches,
With the minimal functions, while V shines and feeds u the law like Levitical luncheons
VERITAS is Voltron formed from Galactus, my flows anoint, on point like a ***tus
But the point is I’m matchless, smoke a joint and ash on what ever cash hatches
Conceptual master wit complex patterns, lines full of more dope than Mexican caverns,
Hit ya bitch like Lexington stabbing, till her nose looks like Owen’s in wedding crashers
While exposing my woody wearing Treyvon’s hoodie in front of some Klan pastors.
VERITAS: The infinity exhibit, never fitna see a limit, your thoughts are all my minions
VERITAS: the physics of cybernetic wizards’ visions of your dollar menu decisions
Swim in loot like Scrooge McDuck, my guns called whammies triggers press your luck
Make any competitor suck, My life makes change, you talk cash, but just passin the buck
|