Verse 1:

Whacker than moles, hit with mallets

Back into their abysmal assholes

More synthetic, than Great Value plastic wrap

A statue that escaped from the House of Wax

Organic by chemistry, composed atomically

But you look carbonic, no real reason to be existing

Your lifestyle has no chiral symmetry

Brand manufactured, conveyor belt rhyme schemes

More disposable, than any church whore's aborted baby

That's why the pen is mightier than the rapier

Before applied to action, verbatim

It has to be authenticated on paper

Because objects have to be named for purposes

For words authorize commands, before legislators

Give orders to executors, to judge court justices

Heads giving head to each other, judicial review in private offices

Author of my life, I don't need friendship or advising

Not dependable, amicable, or placebo sugarcoated

Neither for leading the blind nor following black sheep

Signing others' lives away with exemplary penmanship

Buzzier than a spelling bee, you drones only making honey

Flyer and bossier than any queen larvae

Hymenoptera, the highest genus, I'm that boss wasp, poisoning colonies

My biography is based on real life, automatically

Glossy and polished on the front, you looking like Xmas-wrapped shit

Must have an ass for a mouth, everything you say is halitosis

Recycled, but useless environmentally

To every man, you're trash, not treasure

Not useful for productivity, not even human resourcing

If you don't like my spit, abide by this contract, haters

Flip the cap and suck the ink out of my pen, then

I dare you, to try to find the whiteout, so chew on this Now And Later

Chorus:

We are the salt shakers and pepper seeds, making

Every unlucky fuck, dehydrated, sneezing and irritating

More than any troll under the burnt bridge that keeps on

Building it back again between acquaintances, enemies and nemeses

Iodine and capsaicin exposing all these marauders

Redrawing the line between fraudulence and authenticity

Verse 3:

Time to get the guns, busting out the armory

Supernatural, brought out Sam and Dean before retiring

Choose one any arm, spin the wheel, deal the Tarot cards

52 pick up, that would be my caliber, shooting

Holes in invalidated theories of ghosts, fiends and freaks

Gone extinct, puffed smoke while, I remain as a white wall's bloodstains

So swarthy I had Paranormal Activity turn white

Like they saw apparitions, having Houdini seeing illusions

As if the universe was playing tricks on his reputation

Seeing shit unfold in unphantomable polygons of 2's and 3's

My ghastly presence spooked his shadow to run ahead of him

That Black Magic, I be making David Blaine doing quadruple takes

So much that he'd perform his last act, appearing within the psych ward

Checking himself in with Casper's family, admitting that he's seen

Everything, they even invoked urban legends in my name

Then began to channel King Boo's insane, cackle as the night went away

Mhuamhuamhuamhuahahahahahahaha!