[Verse 1] Step in the room and I step on the necks, I’m ahead of the rest, I’m eleven in check Every letter I press is a weapon I set, I’m a veteran, better than heaven’s best bet I don’t ever need a pedestal, I’m already elevated, every syllable a summit that you never really get You can measure me in megawatts, never in a megabyte, I’m in a different metric, I’m a metric you forget I’m that intricate, infinite, intimate, imminent cynic with images, pivoting, limited gimmicks Riddling, scribbling, jittery, bitterly, vividly kill it, I’m clinically ill with it, lyrically disciplined Whittle the middle, I riddle the brittle, the little belittled, I fiddle with rhythm, I’m hitting the cymbal again I’m splitting the signal, I’m in on the interval, pinning the pinnacle, typical? never, I’m difficult, man You want schemes? I’m a seamstress, stitch in these themes in the seams of your dreams I breathe steam through the screen, see the gleam as I lean, clean, mean, with a beam on the beam I been beast, been bleak, been broke, been free, been both extremes I bend beats like steel in the teeth of machines, I don’t sleep, I don’t blink, I just think in extremes I go calm, then I snap, then I palm every rap, then I launch, then I lap every lap on the track You’re alarmed, I adapt, every bar is a map, every mark that I scratch is a scar on the back of the craft I’m a warp-speed wordsmith, work shifts in the furnace, burn scripts till the surface curls and turns black You rehearse this, I reverse it, immerse with a purpose, I’m perfect in service, you nervous? relax Breath control like a sniper scope, hold that note for a whole damn show Reload flows, decode those slowpoke quotes, I explode in a four-bar row Go from a whisper to blizzard in seconds, I’m shivering records, I’m different, I’m deafening You’re in a deficit, delicate, hesitant, I’m in my element, eloquent, effortless leveling I’m that “how did he do it?” question in a crowd full of phones in the air, all stunned like “yo” I’m that “rewind that line” till the tape might smoke, till the clip reload, till your brain says “go” I’m that pace that erases the patience of pages, I’m racing in circles round stages, adjacent to greatness I’m that face in the frame of the game when it ages, the favorite flavor that stays in rotation for ages Handle the grammar like hammers on granite, I’m slamming, I damage the canvas, I manage the panic I stand in the static of clamor and cameras and banter and manners dismantled, I’m savage and candid I’m rapid as rabbits on acid, I dash and I vanish, I’m back with a passion that shatters the planet I’m classic and manic, a habit that addicts the masses, a magnet for fans in the masses that chant it (hey!) I don’t need ghosts in the backroom, pen game live in the bathroom stall of a half-full bar Scratched in caps with a blunt-tip marker, dark, sharp, carved in the plaster like battle scars I don’t need charts or anthems, just one mic, one light on the platform far from calm I don’t need luck, I don’t need charm, I need lungs, I need harm, I need time to disarm your qualms Switch tempo, flip script mid-sentence, send ten trends into intensive care I’m relentless, pen fences round senses, then senseless men get bent in the air I’m ten steps ahead of whatever you said, you tread where I sped, you beg for the bread I shred I’m fed by the dread in your head when you read what I bled, when I thread every lead through the lead I shed I’m an apex predator pacing,
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