head in hands, sax jazz, coltrane bump 
you rap lax, naysayers take lumps
not mann-ers, no microphone mathematics
hot damn, word! stifle those wack tactics
smiles with lies, tell me your fine
while i revise till every word rhyme
you lace a track, its graced with stank
please dentist that menace, my ears taste the plaque
tooth decay forced, sick ruthless plague's source
useless retorts, wilkes booth's day in court
chairs electric, strapped in, wheres the lever? yank it!
never clever rappin, beware of weathered fashions
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rap game a minefield, critics pick fights
lack of fame might feel like your rigid dick at night
punching bag beat for any given slight
just timid brittle guys, plenty driven to lie
many spitting rhymes, previously recited
when we live in times greviously contrived in
dispicable MCs barely teathered to earth
umbilical messy where they severed at birth
hogs for troughin, many filthy
laws so often defending the guilty
so many rappers preach, misinform the young 
sew plenty trash, speak/with lisp forked tounges
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remain the same unfadeable prince
take a pull, drink, a ladelful of piss
like blades that pull slits, rhymes are knives tips
too sharp to swallow whole, eyes and minds sift
through the torrents to comprehend meaning
prove it warrants a sloppy second reading
yearn to know, new gems discovered
turn each stone, few left in cover
meaning revealed like flayed onion petals
needing to peel remains fundamental
time's passed, mics passed, i'm asked, 'why stand it?'
my burden, a fine curse, reply terse: 'life demands it'