I must crush you

I'm a deity entity and guru free style
Bars

My developed senses are mere instances of rhymes in sentences predicting the future of my arch nemesis
Enough with all the wild eclectic fake outs and gimmicks I'm not inhaling large dived ends this flow relentless my style ridiculous scientific Copernicus
Everything I say is wicked cold and timid on a vast mission to counter permissions of a past requested dance to old wives tales and various suspicions
Whirlwinds of woodwind instruments in proper playing positions to casting foresight visions tied up by dual inscriptions bars vindictive my mentality restricted by frenzied and mischief not equipped for wisdom
Permitted for permanent penmanship signatures the same sane sound on every verse cold enough to quench your thirst hard enough to pinch your nerve then throw you in the deep earth
Being myself on the microphone singing Jesus like melodies instead of acquiring felonies
Bringing real original hip hip back full of fresh breath and lyrical clarity
Im tired of disorganized thoughts and clouded false realities
Another spike in price for whack music so artists go take a hike just to be nice Too much insanity vanity and jealousy
You can't hurt desert us or try To hurt usI'm running rappers through barriers and mazes so they won't chase us like undocumented work as
Treacherous tribes bridging plans under lecherous skies facing reckless surprise accompanied by sporadic disguise intertwined by vying interests of financial lies interviewed with scandalous ties veering tumultuous up rise of accepting villainous bribes to extending handshakes to murderous brides that jump on pretentious vibes
Underlying motives rely on soldiering bold emotion on unopened quotient severely soaked in depth motion
Go into my garage of thoughts to grab my artillery to life no mirage throwing out a barrage have you've saying oh my gosh the boy Jim is so posh