[Split Eight]

asphyxiation leaves my palms red,
something up my sleeve- blink & see em all dead.
Reverse Renaissance. meet with Danté, & burn in a pond.
wrist flick, flaunt blade, insert into jaw; vault off the deck,
retrograde sheath as I flee the context, turn & I'm gone,
drop flames under false names in a permanent scrawl,
the purp in the bong could make centigrades weep.
y'all meditate weeks while I'm teeing off threads,
rehearse every drop just to squeak a false threat,
Ezio's dreams couldnt beat this content. I'm certified raw
it takes a seven day siege before I leave your moms bed.
I germinate seeds while you fertilize lawns. I'm bout it, sons,
count to a thou- curtain call, & I got a thousand-one.
My arsenal's packed, fuck it- rob a bank in broad day in a carnival mask,
Put your hard-earned in the duffel with the other poverty STACKS


BLAT