Concerto of the Desperado

In the glow of the moon, over the melancholy metro, My poetry is set like a U.F.O, The maestro, the lyricist concerto. My physical play the role of a vessel, The level of my lyrics law manifesto. My thoughts wrestle and attack with the killer instincts, Of a gorilla stronger than Samson. Without vanilla my soliloquoy profess my ability to just, Stimulate you like the best sensimilla. The halflife the Illadel-L-P-O-phila proceed, Hither is my death flower blow your tower to smithe, reens to fiends catch another rhyme gripper. Deeper than the meditations of a Hindu worshiper, Unorthodox, hip-hop, minister, Than a Serengeti cheetah my thoughts swifter, You lose your balance when the sound hits ya. So check for the, Fifth Militia, A poet's under pressure stressin that you get the picture, Even if it means you gotta hang over the banister, I pull a microphone on any pistol brandisher, And take advantage of ya because you amateur. Styles gunning down your sound man and manager, What?? This how we do it in the year for nine-six. With this deliberate attack on pointless rap shit. Breakin MC's down to fractions, tell your squadron, It's time to go to war, Respond/React.

The implorer, the universe explorer, Treat MC's like the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah, Leavin these niggas open like a box of Pandora, With styles that's newer than the world order. Approximately three quarters of y'all are water, I straight deport ya, Then orchestrate your torture with roots of culture, The pill brimmage to the line of scrimmage up against your image, Where life is a heist, and the strong get a percentage. It's ill as a war and within it I'm the Lieutenant, That surrounds you like a peninsula to snatch the pennant, You fold like Japan's futons and fans, While I design a plan to make a rapper step like a pedestrian. I crush a mountain into grands of sand, Your pain stains the hand that held the mic inserted to the stand, The desperado, that refuse to follow, The Fifth afficianado, break you up into parts like vibrato, I deep like the dark of the night, Niggas is sweet and sound silly when they talk on the mic, They use the simple back and forth the same, Old rhythm that's plain, I'd rather UltraMagnetize your brain. It's the hip-hop purist, that leave you lost like a tourist, Inside the chorus, niggas is bringin nothin for us, As we breakin em down to fractions, tell your squadron, It's time to go to war, Respond/React.