Open Mic: Lyrical Freestyle

A freestyle that I wrote.


I'm lyrically sick, this rap will be heading to a beheading
I'm a wordsmith that works with the offensive
Colder than hell when it froze over and showed sober
Satan had a baby and I took all of his power
My survival is impossible, my lyrics are like rewriting the bible
Finding no struggle with slicing your apple
I dominate like freemasons they freely put the shame on
I'm here to show you you're playing the game wrong
I'm dying to kill you like a lunatic with a suicide bomb
Considering my position that the truth strikes strong
I get medieval on the mic, I'm evil with a rhyme
And a genius with some spite that's eager for strife
Even if the sun came closer I'd still be hotter by far
Get it? My wordplay sinks into your flesh and scars
I'll fuck you up spiritually like satanists with a sacrifice
Even with the greatest genes, only end up half as nice
I was born sick like fragile X syndrome
For you and your associates it will take a mystic to get known
Why be a king when you can be a god? I'm prospering,
Like why not be both like a godking
I'm off the scene when you're on it, I deviated from your style
Tell me when you're finished rapping, this will take a long while
My mental state is illuminati, pedophiles with rings abusive obviously
They want you to lose your body, self-hatred of losers pausing
The state is mental, my lyrical is more evolved than humanity
So I'm an alien figure, shapeshifter that can trade a picture
The truth, abandoned trees as I don't need oxygen to live
Life is grave with time to save, origin of things
Even with your third eye open you still can't see me
Grab a fourth one, that's called fucking up sadly
I'm so dope they want to clone me in Area 51
And reproduce my style like it's made in the slums