Divine Elegance - Robot Orchestra, Supreme Sol

I’m looking wide awake but I’m actually dead, ran past the Feds swinging a hand

basket casually popping drastic meds

What a tragic mess firing massive led within rapid succession cracking your

neck when grabbing the tec quick try to dissect it

I’ll entice you to test this nice iridescent professor next to the beast from

the east and then the Mid-West sir I then begin to chin check you pin heads

with no delivery what makes you think you’s ill as me

My flow had birth this century I’ve been wrecking Emcees and I’ve since stepped

to the scene with a request to redeem a bomb threat to your embassy insects

begin sticking me with stingers giving me blood Ebola like symptoms which seem

to be lingering

Fingers bleed from the tips, chickens be friending for dick and it’s peachy,

please believe I leave the evil within… the girth of my words insert and peek

through your skin for me to get in touch with God there’s no need to repent,

I’m leaving a dent inside of eardrums

I fear none, rappers and cops are queer Nuns who spun around stunned by Geneva

Conventions, FEMA detention camps be making me claustrophobic you oughta choke

when biting my steez without giving two weeks notice yo, I’m on Tobacco Road,

they say I rap too fast well yo ass just rap too slow and as you know it’s a

struggle for you to keep up I’m rocking the Shawn Kemp Kamikazes fade with a

clean cut but that shit don’t really mean much

My feat clutch the barrel resting inside of my fist I hop in a whip driving a

stick shifting Lexus LS properly bent you gotta be sloppy drenched in zombie

colostomy piss dropping each hit with Robs Orchestration so don’t copy this

shit clocking in six minutes late, I’ll probably be stopped, frisked and sued

for a pass of me quick to see if it bothers me it’s…composited went through

customs this winter it’s tongue and cheek I’m done with these underlings

running these beats so un-cunningly G

Underneath this boastful expression lies a character of this caricature named

Supreme Sol and gringo with the mean flows freak show, well recently my so

called friends that said they’d be there till the end ignore me as if I never

existed

Drift like a feather winded whether mentioned or not my level of interest drops

by cultivates as my love for Hop-Hop.

Its more that beats and rapping keep it

classic even if I seem to practice read it as is my craft ain’t free to master,

a creed assassin with evil deeds I dream the least with the prequel meets the

pre-sequel defeat people that reek of lunch meat

If you do don’t touch me, cause I’ll release a beast that’s too ugly to show in

deleted scenes of Jumangi

I hang in the mist of a concubines image in fine print, it says to never follow

standards that divide ignited Psycho inhaling nitro man you spitting nice flows

I swear to God until I die I’ll never let that mic go