Inch Of 9 Rhymes

The crazed wickedest murderous lyri written poetcist. Death bound not wise for ya to be on death grounds. Make rounds from undergrounds. To be in fact with no exact. Bring it back breaking backs into 1's in stacks. No change to rearrange. Nothing on my mind to gain. Cept for being insane. Reality's a flip when its a trip. No i don't blood or crip. Or fixate myself with that crazy shit. All in the mix with that wicked shit. I project on subject. Hit with what i wreck break necks for the misled breaking bread. Inside i feel dead. I'm rid chopping off headz. Wigsplitting what i'm writing its well written. In what i'm giving. This style is beyond what i'm kicking. Spit lyrics from a lunatic. Sick what you can't hear from it. Putting words together tough then leather. Whether fuck what does it matter. Make no mistakes graced feeling so spaced. From people like women & men that are two faced. I'm misplaced dealing in with gist of reality. With a mind of wicked mentality. Replenish i get in this. & end it. I'm finished with quickness much to content wickedness. 4 4 & more representing with the horrorcore sound music. I use it not refuse to the use i repent. & i mean what i ment. Wicked intelligence gift & talent innovative i'm creative. Not stiff riff raff the rift. I'm blacking out to not care about what you pout. Making yo pussy clout. I'm out with no rehearse to have dead body in my hearse. It gets worst reverse without a curse. Breaking stuff like if i was fred durst. In a mind full of tragic & perverse. Adolescent to fucked in condolences of wicked suspense with no adjectives of pretense in a no sense. Of murdering rhymes i mince with no figure of what you call it perfect