"Soul's from the streets of the Ill-a-delphiadaic insane"

[Verse 1: Ikon the Verbal Hologram]

My mathematical powers devour cowards as I spray words

Like acid rain showers, nations, you can't face them

Erase them or I praise them as my mind excites the wind

Like spiritual incantations, time will clash, haunt ya cipher

Whether concealed behind whirlwind fire or flood

Draw blood from wack souls as I smack hoes

With accessible decibels

The damage that my syntax causes is irreparable

The vanity of my insanity'll force ya whole clique to be divided

You have just bear witnessed to dub side united

[Verse 2]

Or do you love bugs, styles and fresh and numb sums of soul

Catch craft and the clutch is the archer's mode, and sure plot of device

We shot twice out of the same barrel

Rush through [?] slug

Advise me with words from deaf mute com battles

All time left, the pure shot plug the break

You marathon let me down to grace the plate

Full stagnant, touch [?] but revamp the squad

Gettin' loops, [?] on contact

[Verse 3]

The triflin' four fifths sparks another spliff

Bodies left stiff, you can't fuck with my ruggedness

My gunshots is leaving niggas on they asses

Smoking all the cannabis like the weed savage

With demented [?], you take an L

You no challenge, I blow up ya muthafuckin' brain cells

And leave you leaking, the slang tongue speaking

Cocks back the fifth, teflon starts to seek it

Criminals on a move, set a threat

Sip the Moët, and let off the twin TECs to ya muthafuckin' chest

[Hook]

"Rhyme be coming from an illadelph state of mind"

"Soul's from the streets of the Ill-a-delphiadaic insane"

[Verse 4]

I speak double-double, 'cause double trouble

Never do I rumble or mumble

My microphone sever clones

It's beyond [?] since the 46 chromosomes

No more, no less, no need to flex the ego trip with the clip

I got the 6-1-0 flow, and 082 is my zip

Yo, so call me out in Philly when you down to flip

No frill skills, or freestylin' when y'all wildin'

I'm broadcasting all the way live from Philly's Long Island

[Verse 5]

I visualize cream, TECs strapped with infrared beams

Stash keys, and [?], bickin' back, sipping Don P

My clique of criminals living comfortable

My pockets full of benjamins, fool surrendering

When I'm blendin' in, dub side invincible

Imperial, for lyrical tactics

I react with, son you get ya ass kicked

Indeed the face of evil is the face told by me

So I proceed to bleed my people, niggas say I'm too cerebral

Realize, dub side, flippin' perfection through your section

Sanity's slippin', whose the next victim to catch a blessin'

[Verse 6]

Set a threat, I rip the mic and run race like an auto shop

The silence left disperse leavin' heads in a casket box

This nappy headed villain, verbal torture is illegal

I back down clowns with a four pound as I defeat you

Inserting lyrical slugs that's straight deadly

A nickel plated verse I spit like a hollow tip, steady

Constantly cocking back rapid fire weapon

This adolescent keeps a clip full for street protection

Ain't nothing complex about the way I cock my biscuit

I set a threat and bust a TEC son, it's not explicit

Exquisite in divine rhymes I drop like jewels

The mic I abuse when I choose to break fools

[Hook]

"Rhyme be coming from an illadelph state of mind"

"Soul's from the streets of the Ill-a-delphiadaic insane"

[Verse 7]

With this course, I force many emcees out the galaxy

Challenge me, I rip apart flows with my analogy

Now that we got that established I crack ya cabbage with styles

You can't manage to damage or even fathom the mental capacity

'Cause I harass these wack emcees

In degrees I span universe

And mounting casaulties in the dark

I spark cells, dwelling in dungeons

My assumptions canonical, unstoppable, mad logical

I pull centrifugal, mystical

My poetics rip phonetics up in ritual syllable

[Verse 8]

Coming back from the city of Atlantic, it's the hispanic

Causing mass panic with fat static for ya addict

Automatic, I stick shift swift if you test me

Left the ciphers, layin' lifeless, leaving one spot empty

Bet you get ya crews bruised in black and blues

Put ya name and age on the front page of the newspaper

I drape the hood up on my carriage

Damage faggots with the habits

Feedin' on emcees like maggots

Inspect ya gadgets, my style switches 'cause I flipped it

Return the microphone, fix the stitches 'cause I ripped it

[Verse 9]

I can't stand like a maniac depressin'

That's been submerged in subterranean utopia

My dimension that I'm representin' is the Philipedia suburbs

Which has regenerated neoterics

That kick esoteric poetry on this plain of obscurity

One element, top lyricist

Interlocked with D-U-B squad of imperialist

With an innovator as the dictator

So we seek [?] rival crews with solipsistic views

Heads emulate but can't duplicate

'Cause this side can't be tugged, one love

[Hook]

"Rhyme be coming from an illadelph state of mind"

"Soul's from the streets of the Ill-a-delphiadaic insane"