Simply picture a plain with rivers of flame
Where every talented MC delivers his name with scalding quivers of aim
Burning hotness so abundant that to shiver in pain creates more than just a slight sliver of shame
Natural for meteors to collide with Earth
No media to spit lies and curse; our only heated "sphere" is so diverse
Quickly beat the peers with the shyest verse and enthusiastically, we all cheer with cries that hurt
Now, just visualize Planet Mars be popping
Why do "bars" keep stopping? Not only theirs, but also ours be flopping
There exists a bizarre, weird plotting; our battle scars be rotting as every single star be dropping
To the north, suddenly a stream of water
Is keen to slaughter; fires are extinguished, mics were once distinguished
This river seems so modern with her team of daughter tributaries; right in her scheme, we saw her
Explains why our globe is of seas and lands
Mics bestowed upon recent hands are disposed; far from decent raps
Once flame, but since the "mainstream" flowed; wrote my thesis that is "Go back to the fetus gland"
Put it simply, since the deadly apocalypse
Look at the NY metropolis; this "pop" makes hip hop dying like a necropolis
The ancient acropolis now shadowed by all this unoriginal Rick Ross shit who once was a cop, shit?