legs, you can feel a million skittering Down your Spinal//
thats results, cuz my testaments are deeper than a drowning Bible//
someone needs to decor my throne with super glue, cuz tha Crowning's Final//
its like disease residing in blood lines of the chosen//
generations of satanic evolution can step and still get Prematurely Frozen//
i quarentined the devil himself, and with forked tongue Nearley Cloned Him//
instead epidimic started spreadin, bodies lay countless over land masses of Time//
irony proves that tha only cure lies in tha Cell Classes of Mine//
before i was conceived my DNA was spliced with a Fascet of Rhyme//
But one thing remained this poet still lacked reason//
and by age three, i was confronted by white angels and Black Demons//
a war in my head until age 11, and thats when tha deamons emerged victorious and Still Breathiin'....
(continued....to be)
