Fitted-or pitted-for a frigid-war, empirically assassinate while lyrically fascinate, no need for chlling hate/
I gotta test the weapon's-mettle, get it? Test the weapon's-metal; I ain't got to set-it-gentle/
Sippin'-kettles of fiery-metaphors, my priority's-to-rid-of-for...gers; if my mic burns, let-it-settle/
Cold-rhymes destroy-n'-blind your old-minds; I unfold-lines of a murderer and I am a true-asserter/
Behold-fine ability like gold-shines of nobility as I hold-my utility of rap: the lyrical topping of mousse-desert/
To slaughter-the-enemies, I father-the-penning and master-and-play-most-mics like Saturday-show-fights/
Observant like a Morman, always come equipped-with-warfare sittin'-with-four-pairs of sold-knives/
Feedback please.
The whole verse was basically to see how many multies I could utilize in 4 bars while making SOME sense.
