I'll still be rhymin' in the afterlife, these other rappers ain't half as nice, They'll put me six feet underground, I'll turn my grave into paradise. I couldn't stop even if I was dead, the rhythm's stitched into my head, The worms can chew on my flesh and bone, but they can't eat what i said. The preacher talkin' at my funeral, the family cryin', it's beautiful, 'Cause while they're lowerin' down the box, I'm writin' another musical. A phantom hand with a phantom pen, still scratchin' bars in the dark again, The casket lid ain't a prison wall, it's just another notebook, my friend. I'll be ghost spittin' bars through a cemetery fog, Every tombstone noddin' along while I catalog. Every chain that rattles at midnight's part of the beat, Every cold wind blowin' through the pines keeps time in the street. No heartbeat left in my chest, still a beast with a breathless flow, No lungs left under the ribs, still the verses endlessly grow. They say, "Rest in peace," but peace was never somethin' I chose, I got unfinished rhymes in my head and unfinished bars to compose. I haunt the booth, I haunt the mic, I haunt your speakers at night, The dead don't sleep where I'm from, we just disappear from sight. The reaper came and I laughed at him, said, "Brother, you got bad news," You can harvest bodies all day, but you can't repossess these grooves. You can drag my soul through the gates, through the fire and the flames, But the second they leave me unattended, I'll freestyle till im drained. Got angels complainin' upstairs, say I'm keepin' his kingdom awake, Got demons complainin' downstairs 'cause I doubled the shifts they take. Every shadow in Hell know my name, every halo in Heaven does too, 'Cause I battle both sides of existence where ever I'm passin' through. When the flesh finally fails and the dust takes back every part, The rhyme'll still keep movin' around like blood through my phantom heart. So bury me deep if you want, put a mountain of stone overhead, I'll still be writin' sixteen bars while they're sayin' that I'm dead. I'll still be rhymin' in the afterlife, these other rappers ain't half as nice, And if death was supposed to stop me, death should've thought about that advice.
