THE OPEN MIC CYPHER

[corleone]

quick keystyle..

cor the sickest emcee, sicker than anyone you know,
when I flow, the entire globe haults to a cold//
lyrically vicious.. verbal linguistics stretch beyond standard dictionary editions,
literally wicked, my tongue carries demonic rhythms from ancient spirits//
I'm too brilliant.. a rare intelligence not known to civilization,
so smart, whenever I think, I intercede with NASA space stations//
from radio broadcasted signals, to high pitched volumes of casted detections,
my energy intercepts all color definition in seconds//
I'm alien like.. like the silver surfer on his board, seeking for life,
discovering different forms of microorganisms and light//
looking to destroy and deploy creatures who fight,
off my spaceship.. to conquer creation, like a thief in the night//
my battle brackets, involve extraterrestrials and beings alike,
from demons to sight, and all monstrosities to unite//
I'm a lyrical beast, my thoughts implicate visions I write,
from prophecies, inscribed in theologies dated to Christ//
the greatest on mic.. my name ring bells across the galaxy,
and gives testimony of those who've loss that battled me//
.. who can war with me? I react on impulse and strategy,
known to kick raps, twist caps, and kill all your casualties//
leave you in awe, when actually, I record and rap to beats,
my vocal chords contract every force of gravity//
from the universe, to earth's core and every source of tragedy,
my tongue possesses the strength to crush your entire anatomy//
to behold catastrophes, which unfold drastically,
my lyrical alone bestows it's own throne of majesty//