the illeat

Code red: The Black is back!/

'Bout to kick these rhymes like a hacky sack/

& keep your head bangin' till you crack your back/

& I don't even need a hook, 'cause my jab's intact/

So reckless/

no necklace/

I'll take away your breath till my soul goes breathless/

& we don't wanna hear about no shells or no toast or no cake stacks, like no breakfast/

So versatile/

Most you rappers can't transfer your style/

You could battle, yeah, spit a written verse aloud/

But can't make a song yet think you deserve a crown/

Or vice versa. My vice is my verses which is also my virtue/

So if my vice insights a fight & "versus" my virtue it'll still hurt you/

It'll still convert you/

A burst of rebirth to surge through/

Like Pikachu/

They say I'm coming cold (common cold), but still bring a man to his knees (sneeze) "Ah-choo!"/

Faith flow! Y'all fake flows/

I hate those, see, I make flows,/ 

Just a day ago I made eight flows/

While running up eight flo's/

I had eight foes till I ate those/

They want my brain holed up in a cage closed/

'Cause my main goal is to save souls/

Like a hero as my cape flows/

My razzmatazz raps harass like rash wraps & wracks, in fact, nags/

Like gnats, bats & rats. You brag rags to Jag's you drag & rafts fast/

But your crap raps get stashed in Glad bags/ 

Then passed in grab bags/ 

With a match attached & a rag bathed in gas/

When I razzmatazz raps/ 

I spaz like Taz, Babs!/

A tad task to tag when the Black Cat attacks!/

I told you I make flows/

Y'all just want to make queso by the caseloads/

You don't make flows, you make flaws/

Teach youth straight wrong like it ain't wrong/

Like, "Don't hold your breath in a swimming pool."/

They seen death in a living room,/

Horrific vivid visuals, so they shoot with the gore taught (Gortat) like the Wizards do/

Where dudes carry G-rags/

& carry that long neck like a giraffe/

They'll "X" you so "Y" make a point to cross the lines like a g-raph/

Then them same dudes hear me spit & be like, "Wow, golly gee Black! That's amazing! Could you possibly teach me that?!"/

Now I'm locking rappers in a dungeon/

Then I swallow the key, they think I'm doing alchemy & potions/

But I'm just boiling rappers in a cauldron/

Or invite 'em to a luncheon/

At my leisure/

Give 'em a 5-minute lecture/

Then I eat 'em alive like Lecter/

Don't mistake the figurative language/

But you're right to figure I'm dangerous/

But there's no threat of violence/

Oh, you need to see ID? Here's my poetic license/

[I'm a] prior bum, now I'm a firebomb/

Bite your tongue. Whoever told you buy a tongue?/ 

You ain't never heard that silence is priceless?/

Here's an invisible a ton/

So y'all shhhh... Air blown out the teeth/

& I'm still eating rappers like their bones are petite/

So bon appétit/

& if I ain't your favorite yet, put this song on repeat/