[Verse One]

Cascade from the sun

It's the venomous flavor lay strung

Straight from the lung to a razor blade tongue

(That was real)

But shit it should've been a century back

Those who are mentally strapped now will eventually snap

(True)

Snakes rise from baskets, you can check it's raw and pass it

But do not ignore the facet I'm deffer than boric acid

When it infiltrates your temple shakes

Leaving memories distorted though no injuries reported

You know the ill schemes of high beams and guillotines

On the for reala, hear the screams from the Philippines

Rupture your dental with professional perspective flip

It's fundamental yo, that questional selective shit

Know what you facing, complications get emotional

No time for wasting, conversation non negotiable

Doubters and provers know antagonist can snatch the profit

Counter maneuvers can be hazardous and catastrophic

Those who are used to this say chaos can prevail daily

Suppose a crucifix can help you if Hail Mary

Putting my gin aside, you know I get melodic right?

The unidentified, phenomenal chaotic type

When I communicate I cover like a sewer plate

See me and haunt me like Seattle when I illuminate

Check your division, intuition brings precision but

My mysticisms yo can fuck a whole religion up

For those who might incline get tipsy but believe me Lord

No calling psychic lines or gypsy's moving Ouija Board

It's just an entity that tags on you mentally

Contact, draw the flag, take the penalty

[Hook] {x2}

"The mic is contact" - Nas 'It Ain't Hard To Tell'

When speaking on a topic of being intoxicated by a verbal narcotic

"The mic is contact"

When we drop gems you can feel from your melon to your Timbs on the real

[Verse Two]

While others are prisoners, it's the sonic incarceration

I transcend through amplitude of frequency modulations

My rhymes afflict something wicked when they spray

Brain decay

Got me flipping drowning Richard in the bay

I lay

Every line like bows

Cement causing the microphone to tilt

Creating empires like the Roman's built

My scripture's lifted

I roll it up and make a spliff inhale

My verbal gift prevails, rating 10's on every Richter scale

This shit is drama, no part of it is comedy

I gotta get away

Hitch your ride on a chronic leaf

And atom bomb a beat releasing mega potent stimulants

Mad adrenaline, it circles you

Now you're vertical

With no thanks to Mt. Dew I'm spitting shanks when bouncing through

Attract the impact

It's like you smoked an ounce or two

I'm in your headphones

My verse is bound to blow your bubble off

But the high boomerangs I catch are slow with double force I'm high octane

I clog brains and veins the pain remains ya lame game

Niggas can't maintain

They're quick to vanish

They didn't manage to discover I'm inflecting damage

Leaving niggas shrinking like I'm Rick Moranis

My method's on the D.L., I keep it top secret

Plans of overthrowing me?

(Enlist the bitch in shock treatment)

The long term goal is to construct a sick trend

Transmit my flow within

Make you rupture Bic pens

Even clad in shackles I leave 'em holy like tabernacles

With shattered Snapples in they Adam's Apple where bladder's travel

Making punks bleed

Triple the strength of skunk weeed

When I bomb tracks, catch the contact

[Hook]

"Come vibe off the contact" - Smif-N-Wessun