The keys work...I wrote this...
A flow ninja, that continues to fling rhymes and syllables
I’ll bring minds to miracles and sling lines that’s spherical
Yo, see his insides is lyrical, while you dimwits are pitiful
Begin with spitting pinnacles; resemble splinted images
He’s simply sick n limitless so Enter winters simple guest
Test pinching the minuscule, flinching at what’s ridicule
Ill and sick with syllables, a multi task hysterical lyricist
Missing points in actions still slitting joints for fractions
I’m flipping noise and nonsense that’s contracting tissues
It’s always Issues missing actions, misuse missing backing
But it’s always Blizz is missing in action, its shitty folks
Minutes flow as hours they pass, the cities are closed
The towers are vast, ancient powers get devoured and cast
I shower with blasts, a dirty coward that set flowers in brass
Molded in shapes resembling landscapes of fakes
Man takes the place as the branded race landing in haze
Panned in the lakes see my streams hitting the surface
Listen, observe this, precision is perfect hitting the chirping
Shitting on persons, searching the flocks locking on virgins
Blocking the emerging, shocked clocked as the urgent
Where is the mercy, blizz’s turf will forever stay cursed
But all these fellas they blurt until their jealousy burst
Tellus is hurt but earth steadily develop into a hellish mirth
So finger paint my status within an outlined chalk figure
Figure I stalk figures, aim, and squeeze the mark on the trigger
I’m dark inside foreseeing a black future...suitable for death
"I know not with what weapons World War III will be fought, but World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones."
---Albert Einstein
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