st ars Lyrics

Spitting straight bars, ensure the job is done

Killing they corpse, it's all to pocket lunch

Stealing, brake fast his car is junk

No rapper matches my tractor they all just grains

An ant to a tarantula, a cell to brains

I excel at brains, ink and hype

I think and write when they on the brink of fighting

I stink at life but still I might paint a picture

Pop post traumatic stress disorder in ya

Most of artists can't think beyond getting richer

I figure I can hone my literature

Little things in life, thick lines of thoughts

All written down, is it mine or a bot's

It's so mastered it's artificially crafted

But I broke the nib and spilled the cartridge

It's all mine, all bone and cartilage

No ghosts, all the phantoms departed

Ari's back to finish what he started

Your music's cathartic, my music's cathartic

I'll make you wanna emancipate son,

Gonna have to keep your aunts at bay

After I'm done you'll be a thin garment

Maybe a skin carpet like a manta ray

I'm on the first floor here to ruin your Saturday

Lock the third door, that's a chance you have to take

Words or tools to finish, I got a vast array

Of each don't resist it you may have to rack your brain

My philosophy shocks Socrates,

My lyrics shake fear into Shakespeare

Rappers all been doing it awfully,

New theorems proven today here

Matter of fact I leave artefacts

Carve in pad little glyphs of infancy

So I can look back in ten years and compare this to my symphonies

If you're under my radar I'll eat you up like agar

Play your organs, wipe you off the map like Weimar

Stray bar perfection, new playlist addition

Let the due date be fiction, still few may reach my diction