My raps can't be deciphered like hieroglyphs.
New emcee but makin money like Miley Cyrus.
I roll with six, six, six, like I'm Lucifer.
We're both fatal..leave ya more than injured.
Controllin how you breathe...I'm ya Medulla Oblongata.
My lines are like speed...shoot once than I got ya
at my mercy as you plead for me to not spit death.
And fuck Death...I'll gladly take away ya last breath.
Divide ya body n' spirit till it's nothin short of a cleft.
That'll leave a mess...and I put on bravura when pen to pad.
Your guy's rhymes are gettin thrown ova my shoulda like plaids.
Yall might wanna bring some pipe bags...maybe even throw on a kilt.
Cus like trees in droughty Spring's your hope of beatin me wilts.

That was probably the weirdest few lines I've ever typed; different flow