Intro
(It’s all gangsters gangsters at the top of list,
But I got my own style it goes something like this) x 4

Verse 1:
They say pens are mightier than swords but my weapon’s well respected
I don’t even have to make an Excalibur reference,
You can detect it, any time I’ve written a message
I manage to catch your ear without omitting the essence,
Stayed true to the school where I learned my first lessons
Old school classics, class is in session
In a class of my own and not to be tested
You can trace my roots right back to the fertile crescent.
That’s why I’m underground like earthworms and coffins,
Shallow emcees will put their soul up for auction
So watch your throne while you exercise caution
I’m usurper to your title I claim it as King Author
My aim’s to redefine the term wordsmith
So my minds wheels are steady spinning like the Earth is
But I don’t write rhymes, I pen universes so,
Planets align at my shows where the front row sits

Hook:
(It’s all gangsters gangsters at the top of list,
But I got my own style it goes something like this) x 4
Like what? Like this! x 4

Verse 2:
You’re about ten parsecs away from where my bars set the bar at
The bar’s at arms length, I’m doing the bench press
Been making beats more so I spill ink less,
But I still run laps on tracks, I haven’t lost my step
Just recalibrated passion as I further progress,
My inspirations connected all cause and effect
The music mirrors my soul, so I pause to reflect
On that man in the mirror, now pause for effect
Then applaud for respect,
For artists and architects,
Not perpetuating archetypes while typing the text
That’s the mark of the best, not the marketed beast
We’re trying to target a market that’s partial to artistry
But pardon me, sometimes I tend to overthink
Till I’m overhead in clouds with my figures of speech
Right there where the bar’s sits, on top of the mountain peak
A flagpole on Mt. Olympus for the people to see

(Hook)