The Cost of Freestyle

Set to flay like the SLA, turning on for sure to create converts from enemies untethered within like the Weathermen of the 70’s! Off the dome and within my zone I spray tactical math gladly in firebursts! Like Stockholme Syndrome displayed by Patty Hearst! I rock with the homes until I’m spinning from my dome and slay scat in every verse!

What I cram and polish, slam and abolish, understand and acknowledge is mostly unplanned and vicious. It isn’t my stand; I just can’t sit through it! Frets I scan and set loose that let me pan stressed issues mostly come from ghostly Etrigan…                              
…supposedly fiction-from-prose demon of frenetic zen-span…
…who entered this man when I was barely old enough to stand! Etrigan was bold enough to hijack my hands. An invisible frenemy, individual entity, whispered riddles ahead of me. When I was little it made my head seethe!

A demon of unreason, this feeding beast cleaves treason and leaves me to think about what I drink from the bleeding! Kicking back in my dome, picking up slack on his own, making my track his home…
…I caught this spirit at birth and I fear it took residence first…
…in the development of this cursed mortal!

Dispersed through the portal…
…of Anahata Chakra! It burned and caught an internal brawl, spit real quick, spot on and raw…
…Wily balanced with violent talent on tempo lent from the temple of outlaws…
…like an improv Kempo Kata off the jaw...
…is all the bliss and bits that I saw and couldn’t stop!

To bust these chops and raise lust with every drop…
…trusting I’ll never stop is a must! It’s auto-rinse to flow and mince…
...everything that grows into this…
…like photosynthesis…
…to flowers and crops. An addiction so infinite like power to the cops!

It costs so much to rock I should be poor, but this war won’t make me rot! My mind is gushing with wealth, pushing for stealth, never rushing my spells. I climbed up from Hell’s ravine and knelt before the divine!

Behind the scenes and between the lines, I’ve a mind to dream of steamy times. I’m rhyming clean, but I unwind mean because gleam shines…
…like the one true star you can always spot! Like the newest car on the grayest block! I’m due to spar and never lay off!

Hydro to bring gets me flowing with a style, dancing on the tiles, blowing my show all the while. Knowing my chance was defiled. Stolen glances going wild, unfolding holy stances owned by my hands since I was a child. Dealt the blues in freestyle, I’ve been cutting loose ‘cuz my truth doesn’t soothe but arouse. I cut a truce like Faust, sliced the devil quiet when he peddled clout and said “Try it out!” Mephisto wasn’t on my level, growling to shout, howling from a slavering mouth. Save it and Hell’s razor rub, Beelzebub, I prefer Lilith’s feisty pout!