Flytrap

The way I look at it, it is the knowledge that I am going to die that creates the focus that I bring to being alive

Knuckle walkers get disturbed
As I merge spectacular beats with words
That kill like Gill de Rais killed
Leaving corpses worm filled, bad battle skills revealed
Down to the bones peeled
As I proceed my armor all clean
No stains from anything but passion on me
This is ill hop eaten raw, hardcore
Billboard fuck ya! Kitchenerio wont blowjob ya
I blowtorch ya, I'm the explosive Finn on fire
You're a fire fighter, I'm the fire fighter's igniter
So, burn down or bow down no need for a throw-down
Lock-Stock-Holm and two smoking barrels
Gots the know-how
Of that verbal pyro, I'm individual unyielding
Not rocking the house, I blow up the whole building!
Demolition man in charge of explosives
All fingers intact, the middle one's the strongest
True old school, no new school shit
Mumble rappers can lick my armpit
Yeah, 663 MC
A lose cannon, which is so me
Stitches know me, scars I collect
Bike's I've wrecked My bucket-list looks naked
Stripped to the bone, all the flesh is gone
Thrown to the dogs, whereupon woe be gone!

Came without a plan and no instructions to follow
Told by the man, we will get paid tomorrow
Tried to find the path that would lead to salvation
Then we lost hope, lost each other, lost motivation
So what's left when a battle is lost
A funky beat is all i need to help me flowing across
A simple rhyme, in time and find the war is already won
Easy like one to the two, and yea, you're getting it son
Should be no surprise (when) we analyze, the distortion
That the value of evil money has lost its proportion
Speaking about it, doubt it, right - there's nothing too loose
And I was born like this bro - amazed and confused
Mm, dazed and amused, faced by the truth
Apologizing, patronizing, and still blowing the roof up
I was entering the stage, lost and lonely as anyone
You hear me, you feel me and something new has begun
We are all one, in fact, we are all one
No reason to hide, aint got no reason to run
No reason to obey or to ask for permission
Aint got no reason to believe
That we should share their ambition
That we should share their vision,
We should share their dreams
Of self-annihilation of all human beings
Better not say you're sorry, in fact you better stand tall
Signing out - peace and love for you all

Rec, play, click, boom!
Crawling out from the dark I'm
The microphone check is done in no time
Cut down from big to brief
I sting through your ear canals indeed
Cause sharp are the projectiles I speak
Accurate, thoughts hitting exact
The number of kills accumulate as I attack
Yeah, I charge but never at random
I don't spit cause I spray like aerosol cans of Bando
Writing and painting, words keep illustrating
Chosen ones know, mister Whoa keeps hating
It is his permanent state of mind now in strife
With the shrill pointed tip and razor-sharp edge of Knife
So, haters be ready for my lyrical machete
No butchers hands have ever been this calm and steady
Knife cuts deep and precise
Slices in half emcees not worth toys from Fisher Price
Plastic mics, their Happy Hour is over
I spill their drinks as I enter all sober
So, no blazing that jazz, I don't waste my stash,
I don't diss my brain cells, by smoking that hash
Aint nothing high up in the skies that I seek
All I need is right here and I am pleased with it
So, I couldn't care less about your Hip Hop standards
Patterns of behavior, childish emcee manners