Often, I get caught walkin with an offset center of balance, as if my steps were meant for malice. Stop in a casual stance. You'll catch a glance of me stuffin my hands in the pockets of my pants, stuck in a trance from fuckin dancin lights. In my delight, I'm ignoring the boring; consider it torture for em. Throw a perfect form towards em in return and make yearn for more and earn a reward if they're thinkin forward and shoot for it. My roots are boroughin through the loose soil as I begin to toil over a few beats I choose to foil. I'm sorta like a constant rain of comets concentrated on this; Synonymous, obviously, to cosmic occurences. I'm not to be bothered by the plight of you Earthlings. I'm searchin for greatness and ain't quittin. Stay spittin till I bring in the new day with this.

I'm dangerous.

We are, we are, bottomless wells of truth tryina put the "you" back in youth.
We are , we are, the harbingers; the bringers of the bigger picture. For real though.
We are, we are, bottomless wells of truth tryina put the "you" back in youth from the booth.
We are, we are, the harbingers; the bringers of the bigger picture.

and I'm..
Comin off like a broken stopwatch, but flawlessly on time with the tick-tock. Hip-hop has a new clockmaster an hour after lockin up Father Time in his hourglass. Think you know a thing about thoughts? Well, think not. Prof. got the plots to put a stop to your argument. Hardly a process to quickly halt your progress. Lock your legs and arms up in a pretzel knot, bitch.
Eat it
with no label to read, but at least when I speak, my speech is free of calories and fallacies. Fellas, He's a legacy on legs and feet, preparin to spit a lecture at any given second. See?
Thinkin of kickin ass, spittin a written masterpiece. Will have you splittin at the seams, slittin your wrists after me; on your hands and knees, pleadin for me to leave it be, but unfortunately for thee, my ears are startin to bleed. So, pardon me..