You can call it an art
while I call what I do a skill
and that's dropping heavy
lyrics on the real
phuck wasting my breath
on the fallacy I just chill
lounge and feel
positive surges from steel
Cordless Mic's
Keeping me in the light
even in the night
holding up the knife
threatening my life
is Llord Trife
Seeing right through your might
transparent like white
leaves in the winter
set is cold
now heating up when I enter
who's recognizing who
as if I need
to know your position
for mines to grow
if I idolized
and relied on the next
I can't excel and become
my own X
factor causing lyrical disasters
moving in on my prey
faster then a Jaguar...
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