[Lyric] 1 Train Remix (Amin (Rap))

Feeling like a vigilante and a visionary
Literary genius, destroying the dictionary
Getting on top of bitches switch it back to missionary
Only place we'll ever read your name's in the obituary
Shit is scary when a killer hides among civillians
Cause there's a fine line between insanity and brilliance
So I'm trynna balance all my talents on a tightrope
Either end up a rap legend or a psycho
Everything I'm spittin on the mic's lethal
Lyrical murderer never nothing like peaceful
Sand nigga and a rapper
What could be a better combination for me to terrorize white people
I go the hardest and my flow's the sharpest
Every fuckin track is magical like Mormon undergarments
Taking over the markets putting targets on these artists
My catharsis will transform a rapper to a carcass
The fruit of the harvest is coming with the grim reaper
So watch for the sickle whenever I be on the speaker
Ill enough to kill you if you listen with a fever
Spitting ether at the preacher I'm eager to be your teacher
Coming like spring rains to make everything change
Rewriting scripture you should bow and call me King James
Oh the audacity, committing such blasphemy
But I don't give a fuck, that's my vow of chastity
My lyrical capacity forever expands
With wordplay to cater to intelligent fans
Using this music to fulfill my benevolent plans
But when I rhyme, my mind does a devilish dance
To spread the filthiest philosophy, guilty of apostasy
And claiming I'm a prophet somebody should put a stop to me
Constantly rocking these motherfuckers with brutal honesty
And no apology, kill these tracks like it's a job to me
Supporting sodomy and everybody's equality
But smacking rap bitches, does that count as misogyny?
Fuck it, I'll admit it I'm just sick of hypocrisy
We must change over time at accelerated velocity
Cause I just find it too bizarre
So few of these superstars ever put the truth in bars
So I'mma have to build a necropolis
Cause these motherfuckers faker than the Mayan apocalypse
Stop it with the fucking nonsense
My concepts are bomb threats
One of them is bound to make me blow up in the process
Then I'll get to heaven with like 70 chicks
Only thing that I believe is that my destiny's this
I'm tryin to make a living but dying to make a killin'
I'm ill and the game's infected my pen is the penicillin
For years I was writing but I always kept it hidden
Then developed the mission to spit the truth and make them listen
Now I take advantage of the gift I was given
This is the second coming, but this is the villain edition
Killin' the fake rap, hate that, I be Rocky beating up a
Great track, Asap, tell the beat take that
Don't really know what I've been waiting for
Hopefully I get these wack rappers all to hate me more
That'll keep fueling the fire in me 'til I'm 84
I'mma be writing these rhymes 'til I kick in Satan's door
Hold up now, the record must be set straight
I'm the fuckin greatest in this that and the next state
I been at it since I had The Fugees on cassette tape
I lipo the game to get rid of all the dead weight
Fucking these celebrities up, like a sextape
Coming for your chest as soon as you press play
Cause to get to your heart, I have to bust through your breastplate
I'm coming for the motherfucking kings, checkmate