Rushy... Rushy... Rush! Aye‑woah‑whoa Yeah… Rushy shivers the bible, scribble in blood type O- I dont need no vote, Im already the shadow in the ballot box, glow Y’all warm up seats — I freeze up fates Got a heart colder than interstellar space Pluto apologized when I passed — said, “Rush, u too frigid, give us some grace” Im Dracula’s ghostwriter, kidnap the crypt Drain a whole coven — vampiric inkwell, I type with a spurtin wrist A homicide with style I dont kill time — I bury it 6 feet deep with a smile Folded like laundry, but pressed with bloodstains in silk,l Im cracked — but the cracks let the genius leak thru Like Picasso on psychedelics paintin ur eulogy in 2 Im not crazy, Im classified, top secret, CIA got files on my thoughts, they aint cleared it, yet My brains a crime scene — yellow tape, no entry Unless u got brimstone boots n a soul already empty u get the cold shoulder — u get the ice age I dont snub — I condense oxygen into a suffocate My aura? A polar vortex — freeze up friendships Leave a legacy of frostbite on every witness Im water when I need to be — but I solidify in pressure Turn pain into diamonds, trauma into treasure While y’all chillin, Im refrigeratin emotions My hearts a vault — no motion, jus low vibrations Abracadabra — kiss the neck, now Im countin like a cryptographer Cal-Jackal mode — rise from dirt, resurrection with a calculator Pop out the grave, no GPS, jus gravitational pull Robbin weak goofys blindfolded — no mask, no tool Jus talent like a shiv n truth like a snitch I disarm egos with 1 diss — make em stitch their pride quick Btch, Im the truth, but I lie to myself jus to stay entertained Im too hard — got whiplash from my own brain I feel myself, but the feelin suicidal — Like Im both the lover n the noose in the attic, dual trial She want me all to herself? Nah — I am myself I married myself, wrote the vows in red ink on my welfare Matter of fact — since I am him, jus call me Hiself Or Ourself — call the therapist, this therapy session sold itself Quiet when the pen talk — Kno who the fck I am? Blaaow! I dont talk — I translate silence into war chants Cut the chit-chat — let the iron clap Thats a llama feast Scene turns dark — eclipse on the weak I duck the convo — no words, jus fingerprints on a cheek (gunpowder) Wrist go ice — BLAM — blindin sight Got dioramas of dead dreams in my ice tray overnight I rock how I rock — like a stone Not a boulder — Im Mount Rushmore, all 4 chiseled in my own tone Jefferson? Nah — Rushy Lincoln? Nah — Lyin? Nah — Im the truth with a gun This aint art — its autopsy What I write could lay a nation to rest — call it “Rushmore’s revenge” u alright with me? Thats cute — But u readin me like hieroglyphics, lost in the flu See what I did there? Cairo physics — I curve space with slang, gravity shifts when I kick it I kno why u lookin salty — Cus u dead, but still seein my minds inventory I digitized the afterlife, now the ghosts write to me Paranormal bars, Im the host of Ghostwritin: The Series Give me space — or glacier chill Im winnin by a landslide — mud, snow, n guilt It look like I caught u slippin— On the ice of ur ego, u fell like I dropped it (I did) Permanent flexin— ur dome split Like a hard drive full of bad edits Anybody buggin? Get snapped on — Like a pencil neck with a grade school grip, crack — graphite spills I write with spine fluid — autobiography in real-time Call it “Dead Mans Script” — post-mortem pen rhyme Rushy... Rushy... Rush!
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