The water level’s rising. The water level’s rising. Everyone alive sing. Who will turn the tide. Bring about land grabs. Sand bags bring’em out. It’s hard to yell with the Atlantic in your mouth. Cracks in the surface. Cracks in the surface…. Tck tck tck tck…. One becomes two becomes three becomes four. Our soundwaves run your city like parkour. Provokin’ encores but we know you want more. That’s what we’re doing this for. Four becomes three becomes two becomes one. The metamorphosis cannot be undone. We burst forth from the land toward the sun. And transform. The advance has begun. Like Mary J. I’m oBliged. To hollerate and prophesy. Nostradamus on the topics. Often dropped. On open mics. When both sides are vocalized. The crowd spits. The dopest lines. Efforts gain significance. Like overdrives. Of dopamine. Rappers act like they smell like roses. Suffer from chronic halitosis. Their hazardous sadistic recipes are out of focus like a cloud of locusts. Plus their rhymin style is atrocious. We’re supercalifragilisticexpialidocious. With a hand motion. We stand revolting. We’re calling out all Emperors in no clothing. Intelligence quotient. Amassed to challenged oceans. Outlast the isms ists ologies and slogans. These narcissists forget to do their exercise. Confused by what success implies. Name drop successive tries. In drive thrus to get extra fries. Emancipating free speech when I run my mouth. Terminal cancer patients say “Hey when’s the C.D. coming out?”. Break it down to the essence of raw. One two check the mic Stephen’s like every guy. Walk tall in the hallways. And make note of which ones step aside. Left and right guess my pride. Of lying is probable pesticide. Infected by the viruses that bedbugs are infested by. Rhyming enigma I keep ‘em guessing. My rhymes are like ribbons when. I wrap the present. Recapture lessons. The ancestors prefaced. In deference to how we. Break it down to the essence. ‘Cause there’re cracks in the surface. Nobody wants to see ‘em. Strategic wargames don’t call ‘em human beings. They call ‘em like they want ‘em for a prop in their battlerap. But Solomon and Math will dap after. Play the track backwards ’cause there’s too much death energy. Let it be a muse sing to your best enemy. Never let it be your task master. Let’s finish things alive with oppression and disaster diminishing