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I’m ill with killah poetry, I rob foes with hosiery on my dome, my rhymes are of a ponderous motif / dominant’s my recessive traits, who tha fuck is you to question Fate ‘n’ it’s parameters, I spit ill banter with tha most pallidest dander / my venomous nickel-platted sentences leave indelible imprints when my pen spits / ink flows like rivulets, I blow weed till I resemble an Inuit, I’ve been tha soul controller since before tha book of Genesis / to tha book of Revelation, from tha dregs of civilization imprisoned in tha state pen, from p.c. to general population / y’all MCs degradate my mere affiliation with your flagrant fabrications that you could acclimate to any situation / droves of nations wasted, ask her wonder how her pussy tasted / my Stussy T-shirt bloody from tha seizures caused from my head bangin’, I carry more soul than a Black Death raven…
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Knolege is born everytime I rhyme, when I go to sleep is when I die, I’m reborn everytime I arise / I shine like nickel-plated 9s ‘n’ 45ths with full clips ‘n’ I say it’s been enough of this bullshit / that MCs portray today, I snort crystalline haterade by tha 8th, full court press with tha fade away / craz-ed Caucasian, sharper than Jason Voorhies’s knives, more blood thirsty than Transylvanians / I’m a barbarian, givin’ MCs caesarians, livin’ vicarious thru my imagination / killin’ Cali inmates off with STAPH infestations, Gnosiiix, tha most venerated, gracious ‘n’ so tenacious / I give a Goddamn, I kill innocent women ‘n’ babies like Timothy McVeigh did / I berate cliques ‘n’ violate every parole stipulation ‘n’ sign on tha dotted line with somebody else’s name / Science spits fire ‘n’ hellflame ‘n’ I stay L.A. in every last way possible ‘n’ Pac was from tha Bay / Twisted Shyster lights tha rap game afire, Nicki Minaj, Drake ‘n’ Lil Wayne are lame like Rick Ross wearin’ Wale’s lip gloss / GayZ sold his soul, if he ever came to face tha God he’d get burnt like his wifey’s coal / my verse thirsts for Blue Ivy’s soul, I’m so icy Gucci Mane say I’m hella cold / in Nirvana like Kurt Cobain ‘n’ Dave Grohl, every stoner scrapes tha bowl, to spit with GZA is my goal / I got my fist up like “Triumph”, RZA produce is like guns flyin’, I dry-hump tha mind when I’m writin’ / put tha track in tha ass crack with KY petroleum in fact, take you cats back to where it’s at / tha 1990 Jurassic classics, real rap with the advanced classes, lost up in tha thought labyrinth…
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go clean your face with benzene, my pen’s ink skates like a rizink to cure my verbal disease / thank tha God for tha words you’re about to receive, more flavor than herbal tea, my underground steez is worlds beneath ya / you pussy rat finks get beat up, my style don’t ease up, ya better check my C-File fool / I hop turnstiles like Now Y wearin’ baggy jeans with loaded twin 45s ‘n’ bayonets taped to either side of my thighs / drunk off 3 Miller High Lifes, got a 8th of skunk in my pocket ‘n’ my face is numb from snortin’ half-grams up tha left ‘n’ right nostril / I don’t prophesize, I’m tha God apostle, I kill game with cancer that’s inoperable / it’s comical, you can’t see me, I blind 3rd opticals, it’s like wastin’ a prayer to St. Francis of Assisi, or Jesus ‘n’ still livin’ like a savage heathen, fiendish for lavish things like 30 cent silver pieces / my rhymes is deep-dish like Chicago pizzas, I’m a verbal extremist, I dream in wit that’s devious / my haikus, much like my I.Q. is genius, short fused, my sword slice tha rhyme in 2 ‘n’ shine like a diamond jewel…
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how tha fuck you gonna be a MC when you a C.O.? I bleed when I sneeze, tha most elitist since Jesus croaked / you ho-ey fallopian MCs belong in tha lyrical pokey for large amounts like tha coke in me / I snatch chains ‘n’ dance in tha rain in a parade in a campaign to decriminalize Mary Jane / sippin’ Perrier, I case tha terrain lookin’ for victims to traumatize with styles of a piranha rhymes, tha brawn of my mind is tha illest / I’m more down than syndromes in mongoloid retarded children, hang left like a Che Guevarra militant / I start up ‘n’ raid villages diligent with bars that scathe your will to live, I kill kids like Trayvon Martin ‘n’ George Zimmerman ‘n’ take their blood drenched Timberlands ‘n’ sell ‘em on Craig’s List / it’s tres bien to pay attention to tha way I slaughter rhymes, when God designs perfection unwinds, facilitate how I’m corrected / in resemblance to dastardly villains in composite sketches, I’m restive ‘n’ restless ‘n’ my vignettes send men back amongst the essence / I destroy trends after I set them impetuous ‘n’ aggressive…
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from the original to tha latest models, I keep my thoughts on Homo sapien bitches with tha bulbous nodules / Gnosiiis rings a name like coke hits, my rote mathematics is tha most Knolege possible, ferocious / cloaked in explosive like hand grenades with deadly shrapnel coated in acid, from Nova Scotia to Oakland to Los Angeles / it’s Science, lookin’ for fat ass like a bandit, flowin’ like tha Tigris, Ganges ‘n’ Euphrates / brand my name upon her ass cheeks, I’m connected like a chain link, I don’t make a baby, I just practice it, I spark narcotics like a candle wick, you know if I got beef you know Science handle it / ya whole clique is softer than lanolin, I Dirty Sanchez a bitch while rappin’ over sampled mandolins / chance is, I got her throat pregnant, snatch tha dookie chain, spit verbal roofies ‘n’ give a rival MC a proctological examination / optical illusions is conducive to my brain bein’ more scrambled than a baker’s dozen eggs is / I shine existential with my tongue workin’ harder than a lesbian’s…
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I’m more ill than Illuminati, no names but you got a 7 sign on ya chain claimin’ you God Body, you as pop as tha Biebs ‘n’ Snoop Doggy / my pen kamikazes statements, to even see what Science came with, you better call Law ‘n’ Order cops to bring tha rape kit / jaded towards all you South-kateers that talk trap crap but ain’t sayin’ shit / my dual-bladed cadence removes faces like Ghost back up in 36 Chambers / way back then when MCs was dope, now tha only dope today’s arranged up in tha cake mix / Science is habeas corpus, I cut out vocal cords ‘n’ stick my face inside labias that’s enormous / of miscellaneous bitches in the enclave of Twisted Science, I verbally orgasm, physically cryin’ / tha flyest, decked in Puma track suits ‘n’ diamonds, portray my violence, cut off tha 7 heads of tha Beast with tha 10 diadems / I is ‘n’ I am a verbose leviathan, compose giant rhymes like Tchaikovsky, I’m crem de la crem, ‘n’ prove Atlanta obsolete, with a fat banana in my pants ‘n’ more stamina than a 5 minute beat / my package is like a jackal, I carry herbal stimulus in my knapsatchel with my Apple laptop / ‘n’ none of y’all crabs wanna battle tha God cuz I spit verbal cattle prods that stab Gods…
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vintage flow is quite expendable, invent gross that nets flame when slugs is aimed from tha mental toast like Heineken’s ‘n’ Michelob 6-packs, I sift tha coke then sniff tha coke, rock it up then sell tha pieces flat / leaflets leave bleedin’ stabbed by my thesis, graphite, I paragraph rhymes that’s asinine, hands ‘n’ ankles / you rappers live grandiose fables, plus if you had a dime you’d drop it, I tax crews like H ‘n’ R Block shit / tha verse is bronzeded, how I condescend as my sovereign perogative, puff, cough ‘n’ then Gawd Science designs verbal coffins / bury hatchets ‘n’ burnt offerins, black smoke rise, I burn tha minds of the incompetent novices / problem is, Gawd Science Divine gets no compliments for tha rhymes jotted / exhaust remedies, with an affinity to infinity like jimmies ‘n’ Viagra stiffies…
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puttin’ ninjaz in critical condition with what tha pen’s written, equate it to submachine guns spittin’/ debonair magician, I make kids disappear like rabbits in top hats, fuck you ‘n’ that pop rap you be kickin’, like hair-on addiction / I wash brains like dishes, so clean my verses glisten / livid whether lifted or studyin’ addition, Science, tha supremist mathematician / fierce nickel-gleam teeth pierce flesh durin’ a scrimmage, tha Rhodes Scholar sendin’ MCs to perdition / crew or individual you’ll get out-spitted, go ahead ‘n’ get me twisted cuz Twisted kills ninjaz regardless they religious, they meet God with a malicious grimace then I go back to tha kibbutz / my colony’s psychology, y’all wanna swallow me cuz y’all can’t spit / carve TS in solid granite with tha bars brandished, far from Kansas, you’ll leave tha cipher with your arms branded / tha cure for the average rap fanatic, Science change his name to Barabbas or Bacchus…
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clad in iron chainmail, Science sees right through tha veil, my given senses is 6 ‘cuz Twisted’s been gifted / from his limbic through his reptilian, finalized in his cerebrum, tha God’s prepared for when tha Beast come / from Mecca to Jerusalem, Science ciphered with tha righteous civilized about what’s to come / born ‘n’ raised in Babylon where heathens, pagans ‘n’ savs move like cattle to get they battle on / spit death upon the agenda, my sword pierce your Oscar De La Renta / tell your DJ to get tha diamond Technic needle ‘n’ thread your soul hymned up cuz you’ll have holes after tha pen busts / gag you with words, flash thru a 12 year prison term then have big butted bitches kiss my nuts / bent off gin ‘n’ rum, I dine dimes till they cum ‘n’ even tha butt ugly 1s / love’s my arsenry, verbal arson burns arbitrary, herbal bars intoxicate extraordinary / nominated phenomenal by flocks in tha population / fuck ‘em in tha brain, call it mental copulation, tha latest strain of my phrases impregnates tha pages / dock tha payment of you tame kids, tha cadence I came with brings shame on you lame rap kids / to understand my playlist you hafta reverse tha statement back flipped like Satanic records ‘n’ Black Sabbath / acclaimed to change tha game, fuck you ‘n’ your piddley name whether or not it’s Tity Boy or 2 Chains / my verse’ll melt you like tha ice cream cone on Gucci Mane’s face, my felt tip’s nickel-plated ‘n’ll pierce your brain fierce / I reign tha mental plane, I have no peers, my Hip Hop shakes you baby rappers like au pairs…
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I specialize in rhyme expenditures that injure ninjaz with verbal incisions, tha world is Twisted, my addiction to diction is horrendous / I drink Schlitz malt liquid, my sword slices any foresight, that’s why I’m in prison / I like rum mixed with citrus ‘n’ bitches love my thick dick ‘n’ licks from my wicked tongue ‘n’ where I plum stick it / my heart beats to when tha drum kicks in, I script rhymes so dope, kids press rewind, line it up ‘n’ sniff it / grimy thugs get gritty, my White girlfriend spits envy cuz I admire chocolate titties ‘n’ snips at me, yet I retain tha liberty to enjoy tha visual of any hoe, what’s she gonna do when she sees me in a video surrounded by like, 16 hoes? 1 for each bar, she might Lee Harvey Oswald me / I’ll end up with cerebral palsy, my rhymes is cerebral, so deep they leave cats prone positioned like fetal / I like brunettes like Jessica Biel, I invent shit like Ron Popeil, I shoot tha gift like a frickin’ needle / sharp like tha talon of a falcon or an eagle, I’m a Jew now, I neglect ham but like tha jelly that’s congealed…
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I let tha toast spit, if you got beef make sure it’s been braised ‘n’ roasted, I stain memory banks ‘n’ pull brains thru noses / Science mummifies opponents, raid tha pyramids, I’m tha greatest lyricist, I Van Gogh both your ears cuz y’all ain’t hearin’ this / I ghost kids in ciphers like appearances of apparitions, my diction is ill / I don’t need sample clearances, my ascension is transcendent, never mind tha recessive genetic dissention / I strangle bitches when I’m up in ‘em, they love Twisted, rockin’ pendants with Science’s picture in it / relievin’ my tension with copywritten thoughts scripted that accost ignorance, refer to tha God as his sovereign eminence / empty your pockets fast, I load Glocks with rap that’s retroactive actin’ like ghetto savages / I traffick jams that outweigh 100 kilograms, fuck Soundscan, when I spit tracks get bound ‘n’ gagged…
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aerate your face with razor bladed statements, send you to Heaven’s Gate minus tha change for the aliens / violate court stipulations but get away quick cuz tha DA presented weak cases / lamp in a stolen whip, tha Golden kid holdin’ 45ths in holsters with 2 clips on his shoulders / I snort rails off of Wu-Tang posters, gettin’ throat from berries for a blast off tha fat boulder / clap at future enemies over false identities at church assemblies, hung over off Hennessey ‘n’ Remy / blends of weed twisted end up as roaches, step to me with beef if you truly gun totin’ / I ain’t scared of Death while you’re afraid of tha notion, you a studio thug like Lil Wayne ‘n’ Calvin Broadus / approach with some intellect, Intertech the internet, I spoke ‘n’ Jesus wept ‘n’ theologians try to interject to disprove Knolege’s knowledge of God self / my pen’s a sword so get indoors ‘n’ repent tha Lord before these hardcore raw bars start tha thousand year war ‘n’ tha death toll rolls up into scores…
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make-believe MCs ain’t never seen nickel-gleams, put tha 5th to your spleen ‘n’ put a hole up in your skinny jeans / exemplify exemplary words alerted ‘n’ go Psycho on you like Tony Perkins ‘n’ David Berkowitz / deeper than tha surfaces, under tha kerchief’s superfluous like tones of epidermises / physique’s determined terminal, cerebrally I crack cervicals, my eyes stay Pekinese in virtual reality / Kabbalist mentality, God’s child Knolege drapes hollow tips with hombres’ nombres / on debate, I cause ovulation complications with thought dissertations ‘n’ proclamations of equality / you MCs is plain banal like astral, I’m L.A. all day but I could run mine with tha Rotten Apple, it’s, tha Lost Angeles rap vandal Twist, author of novels that burn your novice pamphlets…
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your fraudulence is prominently deposited, heed tha auspices that tha Gawd’s propheted / Glock to your noggin, Hip Hop is flaunted caustic, messianic thoughts revolve flavor like condiments / sonnets bomb atomic like Oppenheimer, Manhattan Project, Science, tha Rap Messiah / clad in camouflage ‘n’ Timberlands, your rap’s skipped like flat bottom bitches, I get up into shit like Sodom/ I solve problems like difficulty’s forgotten, banana clips in the altered fully automated / revise how context connotations can negate shit, realist pessimism cause mental abrasions…
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take off tha gold fronts ‘n’ get tha soul blunted, Colt 45th couplets supplement discussions / you covet my steez, heavy thoughts outweigh tha triple-beam, the amenities of high I.Q.s in tha Beast’s belly / locked up for 3 violent felonies, nickel-gleam words is bonded ‘n’ eat thru you Gods like piranha cliques / grift MCs past how they can comprehend / I descend from the essence spirit congestion into a physical with very little pigmented complexion, I’ll kill your father like that motherfucker Oedipus / fuck your mother ‘n’ bust my custard out my dickhead on her thick legs / watch how it jettisons like when Clinton was president ‘n’ left DNA all up on Monica’s infamous blue dress / prove duress with threats that caress a dude’s neck with 2 Berettas, see no entrance but you see the exit…
