Epiphany - Juggaknots

Behold the fungus among us

When dabbling with babbling

I sends the battle scene to the apocalypse

With this you grab my cock ya lips

Be getting sorta puckery

Getting the Brewin gassed to save that ass come stop the fuckery

My style’ll leave ya posing like a hitch hiker

Make me wanna bitch microphone slap that shady ass, you bullshit nigga

Your fronting said you didn’t think too hot of me

But once you feel the vocal side of me you’ll say, «You got it, G»

I finds the virgin ears I’m busting raw pops

Ya saving the drops, trying to analyze my DNA, the verbal blueprint

Even if you spend eternity you’re baffled, nigga

Having not the slightest clue of how I’m swingin

Bringing styles and flow that’s nastier than urine

See my shit is pure and ghetto embellished demonic funk and all that good shit

A bad nigga when it comes to grabbing mics

I love all women of the spectrum, fuck around I’m stabbing dykes

And as I hurt em I convert em, when it comes to honey dip skits

I’m leaving pussies sore as if you just delivered triplets, I flip shit

When niggas say the Brewin doesn’t rhyme slick

I yokes em in the Heimlich just to get the fucking garbage out ya throat

Mentally hardcore

There be no guard for defending against the shit I’m sending

Once you’re comprehending the ill funk aphrodisiac

Giving the hoodies woodies as I’m fucking up the head like brass knuckles

giving noogies

I be’s the hell fire word reaver

Even Ripley can’t believe

I pull a stunt as if my name was Colt Seaver

AKA The Fall Guy

I never score, why?

I’m hitting like Mattingly

Get your fucking Webster’s dictionary

Look under «fat» and you’ll see my profile so smile

You’re grinning like the Joker

Cause I chose to smoke a mic and let you witness

Get this through your thick skull: my shit is deadly

I kicks my verse, niggas couldn’t offer competition with a medley of their works

I smirks when booty niggas try and grab this

Survival of the fittest call me fucking Tony Atlas, at the podium

I pours my sodium in open flesh wounds as I mesh tunes with the vocal joint

To become the focal point

Brothas of funk soon discover I be +deeper+ than that nigga Larry Fishburne’s

+cover+

Hover on the L, sorta like a stealth in the night

Then I makes the party jump even when it’s full of white men

Check it out

I represent enlightenment

That have you squinting

Hinting to rewards of the lord’s charity received with clarity

I heave skillaful syllable is the brick I stick in music mortar

Making ya think and raisin my floor to architect

I comes to spark a tech

Mind barrages massages caressed in peace

The vocal acupuncture your stress released

Like a hymen crack in my rhyming slacking never that

Styles mysterious like under LL’s hat

The curious become the furious and play the jury

Thus I’m found guilty labeling my sound filthy with the gutter in my utter

A fat bitch goes, «Me me me»

I cut her in pieces kill her sisters daughters and nieces

Anything related to such a thought

I crush I fought hard representing wicked Juggaknot minds

I breaks it down to your English

I makes you say, «I'm gooder»

Verbs deeper than a hooker strictly boning seven footers