What's your station identification

I spark a mental cypher lasting down through revelations

Take a trip into my mental cypher I get hyper

Sniping ass MC's seem to get me higher

Like the buddah bless the cess when I'm smoking

Hawaiian when I'm rhymin cuz there ain't no time for joking

Just lyrical bliss from the depths of the abyss

Rotating lyrical rhythms like the motions of the wrist

On a fag, I rag, wack MC's like Maxi

Pads, you can't see me

Intellectually, you shallow, mentally, you're just starving

I'm rollin on em like Calvin Butts up in Harlem

Wit metaphors, fuck a nine and clip

I make a rapper trip like white chicks in horror flicks

Identify your station or ?adjustment?

I'm transmitting, I'm giving MC's division, through diction

Cut em half, check the math, like magician

Conflicting pain on membranes

I'm running shit and killing flows like some wet dreams

I maintain, no static feedback when I attack

Like Shaquille, oh so neal down as I appeal to the masses

I slash kids to ashes and dust, get strucked

As I construct skills that build, I don't be giving a fuck

Like chastity, my compacity's unlimited

Wit no gimmick, kids can't figure my structure like pyramids

I'm spirited like psychic and dead men resurrected

My wisdon's like prisms when light gets reflected, check it

My lyrical missiles, like heat suckers seeking

Never weakening, feeding off wack rhymers give me strength

Then I lenghten, wit no measure

Cuz I'm the ruler of styles, I rocket, the unidentify flowing object

Time for a station, identification

Wack rappers, open up your eyes, time for lyrical elevation

But you can't handle when I channel

Entering through mental pane