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