Up a notch

I contemplate atop my tightrope.    
Not suicide, I walk lines as I decide  
who I might choke.    
Nobody will hear you    
scream, like your mic broke.    
I grope pens to document    
sentences popping up in white smoke.    
Plucking clouds that thunder broke,    
catching lightning like dice rolls.    
Blow them before I throw them,    
and tell me nice roll.    
    
Cheerleaders on me,    
like cold bums scurrying to heaters,    
or security on some cheaters,    
Quick as a cheetah,    
I robbed Paul and murdered Peter.    
People on the street    
inspecting me like birds pecking at feeders.    
or nerds heckling theatres, a spectacle    
with no respect for my leaders.    
Peck your girls neck and then treat her    
to gruesome death, plus fare for her trip to the coroners,    
Stare as I draw and quarter whores for quarters    
then sketch the scene for the readers,    
I bleed you till you leave the earth,    
or turn and retreat a believer.    
   
You can't coach, how to roast this sublime,    
8 cents on the dime, approaching my prime.    
Cutlery clangs as I toast to my crimes,    
Nobody's close to as fine,    
I could coast and get by,    
or stick to a roach to get high,    
but I'm supposed to fly,    
So I put time in each post of mine,    
it's no surprise, you're now a ghost that's died    
while my flow survives.  
I won't fold to time, I told you once,    
I must have told you nine,    
I'm here to stay, this is overdrive.