88 minus 52, that’s the goal
36 Black Keys, let the good times roll
Abstract in approach, assassin with a fraction of hope
Apply pressure, that’s like smashing a roach
Last of the quote, “Masterpieces, passionately wrote’
Going for broke, got my comp casting a vote
At the contest of champions, the best worldwide
I’ll test my stride, push some of the best aside
I pressed, applied pressure, to compress ya size
Then let the rhyme spray like some pesticide
Pressurized, ya finally get to rest ya eyes
Get extra live when I start X-ing lives
I testify, I’m guilty of MC torment
We can battle for respect or we can battle for rent
I’ll battle four men, same time, battering ram
And when foes become fans it’s so flattering fam
Gather and plan, conspire how to shatter the man
But I’m unbreakable, take a crew, shorten their lifespan
Mic in my right, and I write with the left
I’ll write till my death, it’s one of our last rights left, YEP
Now, as far as second verses, this is one for the books
Unread on a shelf…still as fun it as looks
Odd as sounds, it pounds cause the bottom is round
The problem I found is coping with a bottomless style
No limits or bounds, or gimmicks, mixed with primitive sounds
Plot to astound till placed into plot in the ground
Rot with a smile, free from the grip of the vile
It’s my birthright to write, I won’t stop, I vow
Been rocking while, never sought cash from a cow
MCs try to act fly then the crash in the crowd
My past in clouds…I’m lost in space RIGHT NOW
So Imma rhyme for my life as long as passion allows
Savage Intellect, all about balance of the scales
On a different frequency, yeah, song of whales
Get caught in current, try and figure out what ’s occurring
Now ya learning, what thought you were, YOU weren’t
Lines you’re blurring, could lead you on the road to a hurting
My stats speak for self, but who can really say for certain
Thrill of the hunt, overkill, Atilla the Hun
Gorilla with gun, accurate, can kill or can stun
Some call me Raka, the holder of the unknown scrolls
Digging deeper everyday, long live the Moles
I give my closing statement as I stay composed
And our last rights left is the life I’ve chose