[Verse 1]

Amalgamation of similes and metaphors birthed my music

I can feel the ethereal spirits when I produce it

But I never explain my inspirations behind my creations

[?] in the basement, I mean the attic

In that small room, I publish EPs without aid

I battle kids and perform freestyles without pay

Back in the days, my Asperger’s syndrome molded my speech and drove people away from reach

To elaborate or associate with

And my life reeks of awkward encounters with those beasts

And so the story goes

And so the story goеs

My spit a simple sentencе, no

[?] organisms but first, end it, no

Before [?] name was even mentioned, no

Before I formed my opponents to make their cerebellums grow

Is my reign ending? No

So listen to my story now presented without prose

[Hook]

Screwed in the head

I don’t exist

Screwed in the head

And so are you

Screwed in the head

I’m in your head

Screwed in the head

You’re losing it

Screwed in the head

And so am I

Screwed in the head

And as for you

Screwed in the head

[?]

Screwed in the head

We’re both losing it

[Verse 2]

I’m considered a cancer with my candor when I’m back home

Yes, I’ll leave you looking like Icarus’s backbone

The etymology of my name reveals my powers now

But long ago I would try spitting but dribble and stop so slow

Anyone who kicks me leaves me head caved in and sutured

You’re walking by, you’re yelling evasive maneuvers

Face it, loser, you’re insignificant amoeba spawn

You better preach the [?] ‘fore you get beaten on

Look at me, I’m not normal

My ego could fit in the stomachs of all vagabonds

Of my confidence fits in my pocket armed with a sarcasm rocket

I become a bad sport now

So watch my possessions, I’m gonna bomb the local whorehouse

[Hook]

Screwed in the head

I don’t exist

Screwed in the head

And so are you

Screwed in the head

I’m in your head

Screwed in the head

You’re losing it

Screwed in the head

And so am I

Screwed in the head

And as for you

Screwed in the head

[?]

Screwed in the head

We’re both losing it

[Verse 3]

To be or not to be

When in doubt, choose, see

‘cause we are gods ourselves

There’s no room in hell

I wonder if [?] can actually tell

Maybe it’s mute, maybe it gives us the cold shoulder

I get wiser everyday that I get older

Oh, I am so pretentious, you would agree

My poetry, it body anybody up on the [?]

But I digress, paying my [?]

Grew safe and return

On we press

Me and the other self righteous emcees

Dying or raping Midi-chlorians, keep [?] it

Stuck in the podium

Living in a [?] ‘gesting the opium

Too many factoids pissed to tell me I’m [?]

I dream a cult, a new Babylon sickening