My style is psychedelic, preserved, revealed and used now like a relic,
Can't you smell it? Flaming like hot as hell shit, hot enough to melt shit,
As a child, couldn't deal wit' it, now I dealt wit' it, might aswell dwell on it,
Cause there's no gettin' funkier than this, don't plan on farewell'in it,
Advancin' and excellin' it, moving fast from prison cell'in to hotel'in it,
Pent house suite, sellin' it like I was Columbian Cartel'in it,
But not Columbian, smokin' Cubans like I was Fidel'in it,
Attracting major attention as if I was school bell'in it,
Restoring it as if I was Gatorade Propel'in shit,
Real as shit, enough wit to enter Cornell with it,
But I'm done with it, ran enough runs with it.
Feedback per favor.