Mr Miagi flow, a mystery with the arsenal,
practice makes perfect on the field i'm a football pro,
if the experience intense best let me know, i'll shout to the producer tell him to turn up the metronome,
And in the middle of a crisis, when the eyes weren't looking I swiped the cake with the icing,
diversion tactics, diverse when the verse split,
opinions into to two sides like who can and cant hack it,
The algorithm stays active, attracted to the hours spent on practice,
Never warm the bench we stay match fit,
we dishing out the bars in big batches, a big book of rhymes in the backpack to make you walk with one side sagging.
I popped a wheelie on a tandem,
whilst you popping pills I popped into the studio and made an anthem,
and with the change of guard, my antenna twitching,
when the wind switches prepare for crash landings hope the grounds quilted
If they knock it down, well, rebuild it,
cant blow the house down I found the wolf and I killed him,
I guess the proof is in the pudding, I tell a lie no kidding,
I stand behind my words and who are you to tell me different
I may not be listed the name not known with the gifted,
but whilst visiting the page you may as well click the subscription
and as the ink starts to dry on shared wisdom,
the memory is shorter than the feelings that are caught drinking
distinctive narratives the audio we outperform challengers,
the last man standing in his chariot,
so call me Ben Hurr, depends when the pen curved,
around the pad initially was it the chicken or the egg first.
For what its worth, wait, what is worse,
the words are weaponized tyrannical I fight with a burning urge,
in real life, lines get blurred, the opposite of all eyes on me I prefer,
the quiet life,
so nobody rise the court adjourned a journey with no ending, flights i'm navigating,
all started with me and Parky being Way Too Patient,
now my time being split in two places,
its part family man and part the guy who takes the stage,
so watch me take it in my stride enjoy the ride and get comfy,
a loveable fool like Phil Dunphy,
with the hide behind the pillow bars the flow is so ugly,
the flow is so ugly,
I feel wavy on a BPM, where we can stay seated, sipping liquor like gentlemen and talk until the early hours,
no super powers, but the power more than suitable, disputing with a ruthless individual,
stubborn mules that wish upon a star, forever praying on a miracle,
they wishing for my downfall, well that will be difficult,
my echelons are on another level, have you singing falsetto
when you see the back catalogue, gasp, "the kid special"
gold medal for the last boy scout, it never ends well,
in the pram dashing all the toys out, acting ungrateful,
you must have the mind of a child, trapped in a grown mans body,
rotate oddly, put your lights out, BILL COSBY
keep the beak frosty, the feature fee is too costly,
but if you and me tight, then its really not a problem G,
prolifically underrated, if you don't know the name another page has been wasted,
some don't like to say it, but I told you so, the square peg in a round hole,
whilst your talking like Rambo, find me talking business on the golf course like Sopranos,
Lighting cigar smoke, align the spirit when the balance broke,
battle code, balance out the business with a hobby bro,
the time move horrid, caught slipping gain knowledge,
I guess the beat is like a game, I'm stacking bodies into boxes,
catastrophic with the pen, I might change the name to Obnoxious,
aim to be absconding but the breaks have always made me feel wanted