Sick James 2.0

[Verse 1]

I carve the clock out the wall, eat the hands—now time leaks from my gums like cold grout

I grout my gums to the pipes in the morgue—every drip is a tick, every tick beats your snout

I snout through the body-bag zipper—nostrils flared, inhale the soul still stuck in the fat

I fatten the soul on formaldehyde cake, then force-feed it back to the corpse—now it’s packed

I pack the corpse upright in a wheelchair, push it down hallway 13 for cardio

Heart rolls out, keeps rolling—still beating—I kick it like hacky-sack, rhyme rate tardy-o

I tardy-o the pulsе till it syncs with my verse—220 kicks, heart еxplodes like wet firework

I work the wet shards into shrapnel similes—spit them through bars, your ears leak red network

I network the veins like shoelaces—tie every listener together, one big throat

I throat-sing a note so low it loosens the screws in your coffin—lid creaks open, you float

I float the lid down the corridor river—gurney-paddle, I steer with a fibula oar

I oar till the river runs red into record—needle dips, starts sampling every scream you ignore

I ignore no scream—collect them like Pokemon—gotta catch 151 in one bar

I bar the door shut with tibias crossed—now the beat can’t escape, beat beats itself scarred

I scar the beat with a scalpel-scratch—vinyl made of face-skin, bass-line is jaw-cartilage

I cartilaginously bounce—every 808 is a mandible drop—crowd mosh till their marrows spill

I spill marrow on snare drum—tune the heads to the pitch of a child’s last question

I question the child, but the tongue is now snare—answer comes back as rim-shot confession

I confess with a bone-saw solo—play it on ribs like xylophone blues

I blues the ribs into bagpipes—breathe through the sternum, drone note makes the orderly move

I move like a shadow with bones on the outside—exoskeleton made of donor regret

I regret no cut—every slice is a bar, every bar is a scar, every scar is a pet

I pet the scar till it purrs—pus drips in 16th-notes, metronome licks it up clean

I clean the pus with same blade—cross-contamination turns melody into gangrene

I gangrene the hook before it can bloom—chorus dies fetal in intro

I intro-duce Sick James 2.0: same meat, new stitches—face sewn inside torso

I torso-tilt the nurse till her spine clicks shuffle—vertebrae spill like domino rap

I rap the dominos into a bridge—force-feed the sequence down your throat—now

I throat’s a meat-locker echo, frostbit rhyme skates sharp on a mortuary beat

I beatbox with jawbones—fingers click the molar keys—my breath steams like raw defeat

I defeat the cipher—commit code-red on the cypher round, spit verses that autopsy hope

I hope is a ligature strangled in syllables—choke till the metaphor’s numb on the rope

I rope every mind to the bedframe—ideas twitch when I flip the switch—

I switch my tongue for a scalpel-edge—chorus is stitched in a mouth that’ll never twitch

I twitch with the voltage of trauma—bars wired to a generator, rhyme surges split the slab

I slab the rictus grin on the blank—eyeballs roll like dice in a lab

I lab-coat the logic in gore—any theory seeps out like a fever through funeral duct

I duct-tape a verse to the silence—let the coroner guest-rap, voice cut like a truck

I truck all the mourners in cadence—verse drives nails in a rhythm, dirt piles quick at my feet

I feet-first the beat down the hole, spit bars so sick, even death gotta press