I'm about to grab the microphone like I'm a past-or
From the pulpit, spit verses ready to blast yawl
Standing in my way's like, standing in the path of
Blast pads on blast off day, down at NASA
You can research my rhymes, line for line
Academic bibliography content for masters
My thoughts measure luminous, like a quasar
With the simultaneous gravity of a black star
Vividly rhyme in manner your camera can never capture
You're better off keeping your lens caps on
Or, test my words, find your camera split into thirds
With the lens fractured, and the back off
And the gla** shards scattered, on the floor
Metallic parts get half charred I'm that raw
Popularity, don't determine my stature
Postmortem see my lyrics and pen, stored in gla** jars
Yep, word, my lyrics are that strong
So keep it hermetically sealed, with the caps on
You can check the history of what I've rapped on
Full of information, beginning of the song is matriculation
The end is graduation undergrad stars
That finish my song'll be throwing their caps off