On my shit

Lather me in grease, so I can get shit popping, like bacon
My skin stays glistening, so I don't have to worry about it drying, like a raisin  
While your smoking crystal
I'll be bathing in gold dust
On my queen shit mentality
Where reigning supreme is a must
 
I move like a skilled assassin
Baby I don't need a pump, I do my gassing
Time to give you this lyrical lashing
Whip you into shape, to help build up your vernacular
I'm cocky, so every word spewed onto this paper, with my ink is spectacular  
 
I am heavenly crafted by the hands of christ
I don't use a.i, so I cannot be controlled  
Nor have my spiritual body be taken in a heist
You rely on bots and the machine
I rely on my wits and everything in between
Had to tap into my alter ego, Solar LaFlare just to blind you with my swift rhythm and rhymes
 
I treat my pen, like a blunt and I'm burning that gas, just to smoke you
I feel like a road runner in a world full of looney tunes
Try taking a shot at me
You will miss every time, like Elmer Fudd hunting for Bugs Bunny
I am a bee, now come get entrapped in my honey