I've been down this corridor   
Before you enter you have to bring 
Back the creator of winter damn  
Too late I'm spoiled  I need the napalm 
I got it  I shot it in my left sector  
Blew up the timing device on the reactor. 
Time shifted I had to remold the floor 
The foundation for creation   mate's blend 
The pleasure dome into another roam   
A walk stalked nightly by the ogre 
That's rarely sober. But there's no tracin 
I see the place in the flow. I'm beyond dawn, 
No I'm not in the lawn under pawns - 
Don't rest, never possessed stagnate magnets. 
I never pulled slits lips wit no braille skilled eyes - 
Balls through eyesockets. I'm currently current 
Currents of electricity; They can't get wit me 
Invisible to the retina half - way reality part limbo. 
A nervous laugh while ya climbin through windows, 
Never spin ho's on merry-go-rounds, 
Be the ground level for ghouls, schools of fish, 
Victims on a hit list me like Geronimo on a pratt - 
Tackle patt tacklin patterns addin in seasonings, flavor. 
No false teeth for beef, catapulting fingers to light 
Switches so you can see the real, I feel the tension 
My sight twitches - I'm bent. 
Second Scene: I'm the star in a step show 
Around corners, the coroner's office; 
Where my rep grows. I'm on some sort of drug 
Like the President, it's evident that I'm noid, 
A little bit of pizza - the riddle gets deeper. 
I'm lookin for outs n ins, stolen isotonas, 
The gloves, the bout begins three jabs on a transport 
It's a sport for me to take another life on landing, 
Branding wit a prattle prod designed by God. 
It's My Job to resign frauds, 
The odd is against you got a degree in me, 
So I know that I flow, credentials are essential - 
It's blasphemy the type of shit they be askin me. 
I don't feel the vibe, abstract art the veal 
Doesn't heal this deprived stomach from a plummet. 
Swinging on a duet with the bullet. 
I never pull out for suspense - I'm on a bent mission. 
Jack Cousteau couldn't take it no deeper - 
I'm a resident in Davey Jones micro-locker 
Holds the phone, foamin at the mouth: 
Mad Dog, a taste, never had hog I'm droppin 
The scrooge, makin fools hit the log - axe it. 
I seen it beneath where the cowards hope 
Trembled sleeper see if you can find the lost 
Treasure through measures in bars - I'm bent.