I'm a man of flows.

[Orc]

I enamour hoes. Head spins & lotion. Investing & potent. Pests quit the boastin' cuz the Sceptre is Golden. Orcs a protector of Odin with hammer blows, Kazama throws, it's expected as souls split when the Wesson is smokin', chests ripped and open, neck hits and choking. I run the scene. I'm Wolverine. Ur effectively Logan. I'm like Messi with goals, shittt. Ur more.. messy & hopeless. Never testing the Throne's width while my minds got the wattage. Sign on the dotted, ya souls mine, dying and rotted. A goldmine. It's poem time. Canarys sent to fry by the hot shit. Fucka NASDAQ when this Lad raps it's a LIE if the stocks dip. The Sire is locked in. His Empire is toxic. Desire is rotten. Effeminate peer. You've never met fear. It's developing here. I'm a Punch Thrower, you've got feminine hair and drink lemon with Beer. You're a sensitive queer, I'm a foot-soldier, hunched over screaming TAKE ME NOW in Tienanmen square. True penmanships here, I kick it with business, picking up hitlists, an economical Liu Kang. I'm a Hollow of Bruce Wayne swallowing Butane and a bottle of Blue Flame- one burp, Suns burst, & hot Katanas go through Bane. That's gotta be true pain. Holla if you hang.