2 Part Punch

Up and down, all around town, stunning and fly, gunning ‘cuz I’m spry, running so high I’ll never touch the ground. A testament to being real in my unreeling land like resting my healing hands in the unmistakable place where a lady’s hips meet her waist! And dipping while standing in place! I’m ahead of shit when my voice runs delicate but don’t try to shout my name without restraint. Trained and devout? I’ll bring you shame. Your clout is lame! You won’t bring me to doubt my game! Outwill doesn’t restrain my rage, but like Killswitch Engage I still come uncaged!

Never faking what matters, or shaking when I scatter with what I created in patter, this tightening ring, with frightening pings incites rhyming riots I bring! This sprayed up blaster of aching disasters is staking what’s here and re-making the Hereafter...

...bereft after death, when there's no life for me left I'll take the strife and patter back to the Hereafter until I can crest what's made and for a new crusade? I'll give until those who lived deaf will hear clear laughter!

I zing and aspire to sling spitting fire! I’ll never sizzle, I piss on liars and padiddle riddles when wired with fitting desire! I don’t sing. I quake what’s sick like Egypt before the adder, breaking up chatter with lightning advances! I’m the Mad Hatter’s mind with a psychocrass’s spine parallell-lined into a Jacob’s Ladder!