"N' Afta Da Flo, it's Da Spat-Cha Hearty..."

As I travel  
along the plane
of 'mind flight'
it's in the front row
of the 3rd eye
I find sight...

n' I just know,
'Pon take off
I'm bout to go...

...Insane with vernacular
it's critical, I go ape-shift
into an animal...
 
I'm a cannibal,
like Hannibal
I shot the specter
of 'Lector' coursin'
' thru the write vein
spillin' ink blood,
black as midnight rain...

I drain the mucus
from verb, yet won't cuss
they fuss as  I slant-chant
n' chat,  "what's DAT
he spat!? on the high seas
their eyes can't maintain
as I-contend to contain
thy sharp focus...

it's so hopeless to try
n' scope this seer precision...

up among the clouds
the 'sighs have  risen'
as I've ridden...hidden,
'Blue's Clues' couldn't
define mind's freed
rhyme's rhythm is
light... it's a little like
written messages,
the 'bottle's capped...'

Kept it on the lowdown
now I'm back, it's the
Verbal Assassin, flossin'
yap...

Hey, don't attempt to
detain this verbal ish,
'wry' ain't the dish
you wanna try, cuz
in one itty bitty  blink
 of the eye I'm gone,  
along on a new ride...