Taste of What's to Come (Revelations Pt.3)

[SHEEPISH LORD OF CHAOS]

Don't look at me tone deaf, you know u can hear
I represent cha next to rep in checks while I metacarpal your regime/
relay my gameplay out cha orphans watch me jack your coffers
intercept pyromania sets integrate cha lime wires my time expires/
jet fusion disillusion confusions poor righteous teacher
out the slums into the gyms and hemming up diamonds/
paint pics in quick fixes exile refit cha for suits you'll be buried in
never finish me off I rise like the South vs the North again/
civility poor ultimatums making a feudal outta the nicest ripper among the living
dead liver high wired fired up from too much coffee mixed with weed indeed/
feeding my thirst that never gets quenched stay on the bench
I can clone the whole team and make them the notarized authoritative figures/
placate cha action with beatifications making those NPC quake in they boots
watch me reconfigure your patches and ratchet up the damage by multiples of two/
weigh your darts against mine i dispose spines in times you align
flying guillotine make machines easily now you measly weak/
whack against the best even but cha never expected to be against
a lyricist so respected ill connected just jet cha son past
what i write is how i spread truth buried in the minds of those eyes that just cried
know why i am a beast never rep the symbolic symbols you obliterate what I copulate compute/ thoroughly reused when i refused the blood transfusion now I’m LT. Cold Crush
told cha not to touch the pen nor the mic i am near mostly feared in ciphers/
360 deals make emcees yield to bills of dead presidents i stay eloquent when I speaking on topics dropping more heat than comets bringing to your plane/
open game know pain wrath bath mask ask fast clash leave truth’s in booths
my powers be schooled in ways fools only read about in the news/
cue up fuses in views I know how to take the pew
get cha glued to TV sets watching the Mets vs. the Yankees/
pass that silver rings vs dragon dagger, Puerto rock cold slaw mind raw hold cha bra lady
got those Houdini mind linguine macaroni and cheese laced bars of some of the greats/
me and The Section 9 Foundation be in the spot like the 13 disciples
lounging acturately drapping candy coated paint stylish taint given book of Enoch/
the Academics champ is back, rocking the sickest flavored reeboks
time stuck ever-last cha best chip damage cha lavish with no cameras/
catch me in a tinted out Dodge we like fuck,
cherry frosted flakes deluxe truck whipping seventy on the dial/
bullets flyin all through the office checking for saucers
ricocheting off the earth dirt napping birth giving/
you gone kill me over this hungry-ass bitch
she the most loudest trick you hear with a pussy like a speaker-box/
cocoa butter strawberry orange and blue frozen glazia
fucked her like 54 doves style
light up the swizz yo we fried like freshwater carp/
ayo dickin down tricks dollar mind scholar found cha hollar
slide in wit the winning razor in the stash/
like a laserbeam crashed off the Blastmatic
asking what's revealation's are gon come next/