[Void]

It's the Thrilla In Manilla champ, the vanilla guy in Thrilla. (what????????)
Every rhymes', a dark to light version.
I'm Jacksons zombified version.
I fossilize wordsmiths with optimized perfect, shots when the mossberg cries.
Every bomb that falls in lines' surging, with optic primed curves,
I got designs for sharp precise turns, like a homicide surgeon
combined with a modified serpent.
blah blah blah perfect. ironic how my oxymoron rhymes merging
--- I'm the Columbine jury, you're a concubine virgin.
got sights that go on my sights, on my sniper. It's so enticing to me
I go sight-seeing on my rifle, signs saying it's such a nice sight to see.
You need night lights to sleep, & at night time I feast
a cannibalistic, animal. Itching to eat you on a smorgasbord
If I'd feed off your flesh, I'd still be considered a herbivore
fucking loser ass mothefucker, how fucking dare you confront the ANTHROPOPHAGITE,
WITH HANDS ENGROSSED IN DYEs OF REDAND CHERRY WINE, MAROON,
SUCH A BITTERSWEET BUFFOONERY, CARMINE BRICK FLESH, BLOOMING MAGENTA BRUISES.
EXTINGUISHING EACHOTHER IN A SANGUINE DISTINGUISHING TOUCH,
WITH A VERMILION TONGUE TO DINE ON YOU SOFT MOTHERFUCKER,
and what? And 1. Go to the line, fucked up. shoot a freethrow.
just dunked on you four foot midgets, the length of my nuts free flow.
Velour tux. Grinning.