Beyonder by That’s Nice

You rap like a child in a mask with a cap gun,
I write like a warlock’s pact in the black tongue.
You flex for the app while I step in the sanctum,
They crown me in ash while you beg for attention.
I sit in the back where the silence erupts,
You rap for the chat, I recite from the gut.
You post for reactions and bask in the fuss,
I scribe from a chalice that’s blackened with dust.
I don’t shout threats, I just carve ‘em in runes,
You flash for the net while I harvest the moon.
You bend for a check, I was birthed in the tomb,
With one hand in death and one arm in the womb.
No medals, no press, just a page and a pen,
While you rap like an actor on stage for pretend.
You mimic the gods, I was raised in the den
Where the wolves eat their prey and taste what is dead.
You spit like a leech who sucks at beef for a purpose,
I spit like a beast who was stuck in the furnace.
I don’t chase trends, I don’t move for a worship,
I let stillness collapse and let doom resurface.
You dance in the delusion, I’m movin’ with torque,
You fall for illusions, I chew through to the source.
You rap for a clip, I just do it for war,
With a smirk like a monster who grew into more.
You scream for a god that abandoned your name,
I sleep in the fog with a lantern and blade.
You beg for the love that evaporates fame,
I sit on a throne made of shattered remains.
I walk through the chapel with blood on my tongue,
You talk like a captive who mimics the dumb.
My wrath of a psychopath, no emotion and numb

You fumble your breath while you claw for the top,
I rip through the flesh of a beat that you lost.
You shine like a sticker, I rot like a cross
That was hung upside down in the grip of a god.
You rap like a pilgrim lost in the canyon,
I chant like a ritual cloaked in abandon.
You live in the noise, I was born in the famine,
You dream of a throne, I was thrown to the dragon.
You blink in the dark and mistake it for peace,
I feast on the marrow you leave in defeat.
You speak for the web, I was bred in the breach
Where the silence is loud and the weapons don’t speak.
You rhyme like a book of polite little curses,
I write like a judge when the sentence finally worsens.
You act like your mic is a rite into purpose,
I whisper and watch as your spine starts to curve in.
No deals, no label, no pulse in the wrist,
No friends of mine exist, just a pact with the mist.
You pose like a prince, I exist in the crypt,
Where the gods got dethroned and got print in hieroglyph.

I don’t cry for the stage, I just wait for the fall,
You pray to your fans while I chase with the crawl.
You type like you matter, I scratch on the wall
With the bones of a traitor I snapped in the hall.

I don’t chant, I don’t preach, I don’t bow to a beat,
I don’t seek your crown, I dissolve what you keep.
I don’t post for likes, I don’t chase a retreat,
I just rise like a plague when it’s calm in the streets.

I don’t whisper no more, I incinerate breath in the vacuum of war with a grin in my chest,
I dismantle the form of your pitiful stress, leave your catalog gaspin’ for spiritual depth.
I’ve been buildin’ a temple of venomous steps where the voices of hell never settle for less,
Every message I connect is a weapon addressed to the mess of your flesh until there’s barely anything left to dissect.

I don’t beg for the light, I collapse it to darkness, then travel like smoke through the cracks of your apartment,
You perform for applause while you tryin’ to start shit, I’ve been sharpenin’ blades to hit point blank on the target.
You just rap like a puppet with a hand up it’s ass, while I drag every king to the brink in a flash,
I’m the voice in the dark that’ll split when I choose, got you sinkin’ in the deep blue with cement shoes.

4147/7500

I don’t boast, I just sit where the graves breathe cold, Move like a ghost with the most and a blade in my soul. Quiet as an unmarked grave in a cave full of bones, You chant for the crowd, I engrave in the stone. I don’t march, I appear in the gap of the light, No shadow, no sound—just collapse in the night. I don’t yell, I just peel off the grasp of your hype, Cut gods from the cloth they attach to their mic. You rap like a child in a mask with a cap gun, I write like a warlock’s pact in the black tongue. You flex for the app while I step in the sanctum, They crown me in ash while you beg for attention. I sit in the back where the silence erupts, You rap for the chat, I recite from the gut. You post for reactions and bask in the fuss, I scribe from a chalice that’s blackened with dust. I don’t shout threats, I just carve ‘em in runes, You flash for the net while I harvest the moon. You bend for a check, I was birthed in the tomb, With one hand in death and one arm in the womb. No medals, no press, just a page and a pen, While you rap like an actor on stage for pretend. You mimic the gods, I was raised in the den Where the wolves eat their prey and taste what is dead. You spit like a leech who sucks at beef for a purpose, I spit like a beast who was stuck in the furnace. I don’t chase trends, I don’t move for a worship, I let stillness collapse and let doom resurface. You dance in the delusion, I’m movin’ with torque, You fall for illusions, I chew through to the source. You rap for a clip, I just do it for war, With a smirk like a monster who grew into more. You scream for a god that abandoned your name, I sleep in the fog with a lantern and blade. You beg for the love that evaporates fame, I sit on a throne made of shattered remains. I walk through the chapel with blood on my tongue, You talk like a captive who mimics the dumb. My wrath of a psychopath, no emotion and numb You fumble your breath while you claw for the top, I rip through the flesh of a beat that you lost. You shine like a sticker, I rot like a cross That was hung upside down in the grip of a god. You rap like a pilgrim lost in the canyon, I chant like a ritual cloaked in abandon. You live in the noise, I was born in the famine, You dream of a throne, I was thrown to the dragon. You blink in the dark and mistake it for peace, I feast on the marrow you leave in defeat. You speak for the web, I was bred in the breach Where the silence is loud and the weapons don’t speak. You rhyme like a book of polite little curses, I write like a judge when the sentence finally worsens. You act like your mic is a rite into purpose, I whisper and watch as your spine starts to curve in. No deals, no label, no pulse in the wrist, No friends of mine exist, just a pact with the mist. You pose like a prince, I exist in the crypt, Where the gods got dethroned and got print in hieroglyph. I don’t cry for the stage, I just wait for the fall, You pray to your fans while I chase with the crawl. You type like you matter, I scratch on the wall With the bones of a traitor I snapped in the hall. I don’t chant, I don’t preach, I don’t bow to a beat, I don’t seek your crown, I dissolve what you keep. I don’t post for likes, I don’t chase a retreat, I just rise like a plague when it’s calm in the streets. I don’t whisper no more, I incinerate breath in the vacuum of war with a grin in my chest, I dismantle the form of your pitiful stress, leave your catalog gaspin’ for spiritual depth. I’ve been buildin’ a temple of venomous steps where the voices of hell never settle for less, Every message I connect is a weapon addressed to the mess of your flesh until there’s barely anything left to dissect. I don’t beg for the light, I collapse it to darkness, then travel like smoke through the cracks of your apartment, You perform for applause while you tryin’ to start shit, I’ve been sharpenin’ blades to hit point blank on the target. You just rap like a puppet with a hand up it’s ass, while I drag every king to the brink in a flash, I’m the voice in the dark that’ll split when I choose, got you sinkin’ in the deep blue with cement shoes.

0/500