ROB

Bombs away! A new empire has risen/
A new era of sparta. A new breed of titans/
Fast mouth actin' like an automatic shotgun/
Once out, we will be blastin' on these psychopathic micmen/
This one's for those fool who loves to hate/
For the ones who think they're cool and they are great/
My word's straight. There's no need for a referrence mate/
You'll feel the grief once I throw your dreams in to the grave/
I think outside the box. I fight dirty/
That's why I think outside the box so ya'll bitchass can't play me./
There's no need for a gloc or a forty-/
Five caliber pistol 'cause my punches are way too filthy/
Strong and direct. No need to dissect/
You'll feel it when it hits you like when manny's left hand connect/
So tell me if I'm correct or correct me if I was wrong/
There's no need for stupid questions. It's Rhyme Ballistics I belong/

Configured

My caliber's maliferous, rabid verses on a clip/
deathscythe on a check mic spittin bullets in a glimpse/
bitches swimmin in the current like a bizkit with a limp/
im the aftermath's solution in an algorithmic spit/
bone snappin deathclutch in a catabolic grip/ coz
feint hunger aint enough in a diabolic pit/ so
rest in pieces in my feces in your malnutrition state/ The
Demon glutton has awaken tis my pandemonic age/ starving swine when i dine, in a cataclysmic rage/ carving lines with them rhymes, thoughts were written with a blade/ surgin bodies on their graves puttin up a psychopathic show/ spewin death from above with a pyroclastic flow/ now you know, it's not about the money, glory or fame/ not the show, nothin about these sorry boring claims/ spittin scorchin torrent flames/ spoke and broke these horrid games/ forged iron using will a morbid beast with broken chains.

Random

I bring fatal damage cuz what I say is savage/
Every Phrase satanic like ya favorite tape when it's being played backwards/
Raise our banner, in this game we aimin' higher/
Take the challenge, uppercut ya tonsils through ya nasal passage/

A trained assassin, mind-state's imbalanced/
I'll scrape ya face with a razor blade from Henry Gaskins/
Get slayed(gets laid) in action that's for playing possum/
The pain's chain reaction asphyxiates your whole battalion/

Ain't no accident, betta thank me ya still alive/
Cuz I'm a reaper in disguise, seething and eager to strike/
Was even sittin just beside of Paul Walker while he rides/
'fore his car crashed then died so hold on for ya life/

I'm a stalker at night armed with sharp stilettos/
Carve your outer section as you beg for mercy/
Watch a rogue extinguish your whole existence/
I'm a fucking rhyme ballistic with a psycho instinct/