One line rhyme-bringin it back!!

My chyna white makes recovering addicts relapse/
Come short on a sack, gatling make ya collapse while ya runnin' laps/

like loops on a sp1200 track, tens years back, when hip-hop was never wack, the grimey individual, made you see visuals, like bruce lee's fast punch slowed down on 1080i pixels

dark side of the medulla, the mental sewer, were devils and angels throw gangsigns, drivebys killings by the blind, the hood is the sweatbox, a million screams from one voicebox, I saw a mime kill a man, shaping a airgun with his hands

the jakes won't spare none of ya fam, Uncle Sam want chu where? Up in the can/

rest ya strugglin plans as sands land, ya clan's damned//

delete you out the jam like viral spam without a second glance

without the necromance I quote dead prophets wit a pen in hands/

dead-men-dance?, i en-hance the maggots in coffins//
kill em' off, travel time & give they mom an abortion//

4 pens for each horseman, my pages explode...//

whenever im blowed...my rhymes redesigning the code...//:b

I pull out a pen and ninjas get laid

I am what I am and many men get played

these sentences sprayed emit waves of lyrical blades//

You should have stepped into the place
I spit acid and watch it land on your face!

J.t.s. versus the snakes, watch me workout and crush the fakes wit heavy weights/
Everyday's a paperchase, i'm chased by jakes in every state, so i stay irate/