I brought my notebook to write rhymes, but no pen
Brainwaves exploding, how can I hold them?
Sound so slick, someone else must have wrote them
If you left a message then, please leave a note when
Compliments bore me, please tell me I'm wack
So I can jump up, get behind the mic and attack
Let me show and prove that I can body a track
I won't stop moving forward, I can't start to fall back
Just leave it to me to run rap
I tell you like LL that it ain't a comeback
My flows like virgins, in that they come fast
Destroy stages as a hobby and that's a fun fact
I need to make a killing, or better yet a living
Search for some peace of mind in the world that I live in
'Cause the psycho psychic phantoms can be so unforgiving
Make you drop to your knees and say f*ck it, I give in
What the f*ck am I on about?
Marx is chatting shit again!
As a bane, I used to rip raps at age four
And with the chit chat, I start to wage war
Tanned through my student loan so I'ma stay poor
I could buy food, but I'd rather play tours
Please excuse me if I'm feeling pretty confident
My creations get played in every continent
It comes as no surprise, 'cause it's perfectly cromulent
Two vowels please Rachel, and a couple of consonants
The countdown to extinction
I can't be arsed with rhyming, what's the next Simpsons?
I never buy weed, I'd rather smoke yours
Toke four, then jump over the Springfield Gorge
I'm tryna make a spliff and can't find a place to sit
I'm on the toilet, but I don't need to take a shit
Pass the Stinging Roger, thanks, I'll savour it
Treehouse Six, aw sick, that's my favourite
Is a f*cking beast episode though
When Homer goes in 3D and that
It's funny, I sit and think for a second still
I'm wasting my life, I'll probably never get a record deal
I don't believe in God, so when I pray to the death I will
I'm talking to myself, and who cares how the Hell I feel?
Dangle it in front of me, sick of these teasers
Be Sharps second album, Bigger Than Jesus
With different songs for different seasons
Professional with these tools, no logic or reason
Every move I make is calculated and precise
Shattering the scales when detonating the device
You seen me on the mic? Then you know I'm pretty nice
Got a pretty wife, but you still lead a shitty life
How many times a day my name lands in your search bar?
And then you see me slay, aw mate, it must hurt, nah?
I still approach this like I was writing my first bar
Trip over my tongue, not a clue what the words are
Guymer laaaaaaaaayd
The Notorious MKG
2018