Verse one Sheepish lord of chaos
If you want to declare war
Hope you got galls to pass the test considered The Best/
You canít eveningly match my pedigree
Deadly wit right amount of lyrical weaponry/
And for you to step in the arena with me
Is a bad idea like not getting your high school diploma/
The Blastman is taking on all competitors
Rendering them unless like CTRL, ALT-DELETE/
WHO THE FUCK wants to compete wit me or
Against me deadly wit the mic saber like Darth Vader/
Fade cha long breathes my flow
Got more methods than Stanford
And Harvard teaching lessons/
Wrestling bars check the scars
And barbwire like Mick Foley/
Iím DYNO-MITE and this ainít ALL IN THE FAMILY
And you ainít no ARCY BUNKER/
I thump ya coming through trampling you
Like stupid fools running in the front of bulls/
After that Iíll throw a Japanese nigga infected wit SARS at cha
After the guy wit AIDS rape you butt first/
Told cha Iím the craziest most psychotic individual
You ever met on the net didnít momma tell ya not to talk 2 strangers/
Now you in danger pretending to fight back
You couldnít do me like Bush did Iraq/
My shit packs a punch like a nuke going off in your backyard
Saying goodbye was so easy to say I wrote in an essay, esa/
Chrous: Were two of the livest..crushin' emcee's in the ciphers..
Sheepish bringin' chaos..J.T.S. rhyme infliction deadly
like the aids virus.. 2 relentless rhymers...
battled scarred sho-guns..mic-fight survivors
Verse 2 : J.T.S.
i un-veil the scroll, my philosophy magical like tao-ism..
My brain grapples concepts, i diminish mc's images, amd inner-visions...
Bandits try to barricade the bars, and become im-prisoned..
En-vi-sion the storm, you'll need ya brain re-formed after it's torn..
I was scorned in the rapture, survived resserected, and re-born..
Once rhymes con-form, in-forms they eradicate the norm..
10 years married to hip-hop affinity alliance formed..
these days of wack mc's grazing my plains are gone..
Slugs glaze ya frame, for tryin' to frame the don..
My lyricism's futuristic, the year 3000 and beyond..
i yawn at these rap peons, rhymin' wack for eons..
No way to dodge this illuminated hip-hop neon..
Tracks i ski on, and this is killing season for biters thievin' songs..
Various styles in my collage, to leave ya mind con-fined wit bombs..
I'm hard as petros, maniac musical massacre on the metro..
Dealier than the after-math of a tech spray, signin' off the mic psycho..