I'm about to grab the microphone like I'm a past-or

From the pulpit, spit verses ready to blast yawl

Standing in my way's like, standing in the path of

Blast pads on blast off day, down at NASA

You can research my rhymes, line for line

Academic bibliography content for masters

My thoughts measure luminous, like a quasar

With the simultaneous gravity of a black star

Vividly rhyme in manner your camera can never capture

You're better off keeping your lens caps on

Or, test my words, find your camera split into thirds

With the lens fractured, and the back off

And the glass shards scattered, on the floor

Metallic parts get half charred I’m that raw

Popularity, don’t determine my stature

Postmortem see my lyrics and pen, stored in glass jars

Yep, word, my lyrics are that strong

So keep it hermetically sealed, with the caps on

You can check the history of what I’ve rapped on

Full of information, beginning of the song is matriculation

The end is graduation undergrad stars

That finish my song’ll be throwing their caps off