I flow like an infinite cascade never seen before/
So evacuate the dance floor -before I go Sophie Ellis-Bextor/
And before I knock you down like Keri, West and Neo/
Without the matrix I burry so-called-best with ease, yo… so/
A breeze flow eliminates seven armies/
If I get mad, your body will get signed by thunder like Kevin Ollie/
The hunger in me is something I can’t control, sorry/
So I turn in to a beast like cheetor, charge forth and scream it’s war/
You can’t escape, I’m wining by far/
Only way you’ll JR Smith my bars, is if you Lucy Gordon yourself with a scarf/
You’ll see; that it’s like an old Mormon, unmarried/
If you think you can beat moi head on in a challenge/
It’s all balance, I’m on top while I’m still underground/
Yes, I may be an oxymoron now, but your just a plain moron, drowned/
Me? A general moving the king, don’t need to be crowned/
Now… how does that sound?/