[Lyric] Iller Instinct (Rhyme Asylum)

[Verse 1: Possessed]
Yo-yo, check it, yo, yo
I hope this beat’s flame-resistant
When I come off the top I’ve lost the plot like books with pages missing
Won’t break tradition, I’m keeping it real
Plant seeds of destruction in Elysian fields
Spit heat till combustion, blessing the beat
My peeps are weaving a worldwide web of deceit
And until we resting in peace not sharing love
Be scared of us, we go out on a limb like a pair of gloves
Tearing up vets, shouting abuse
Don’t respect my elders, I drown them in the Fountain of Youth
And I icepick my brain for rhymes
My frame of mind turns food for thought into migraines of rice
Rhyme Asylum ninja assassin
You’re left with anaphylactic shock once I sting into action
Taken under the wing of a dragon
After I was born the Bible’s authors had to print a retraction

[Hook: Skirmish]
We got an iller instinct spitting nothing but flames
Nothing has changed, rappers still got nothing to say
And we dedicated time to perfect the craft
Cause we the chosen few that still respects the art
And we overdue in the vocal booth
We got an iller instinct that we’ve shown and proved
And we dedicated time to perfect the craft
We the chosen few that still respects the art
[Verse 2: Plazma]
Cause your forces to tremble locking horns with the devil
Fuck him, I’m selling souls on a corporate level
The city drove me insane, I live alone in a cave
Collect voodoo dolls and have human skulls on display
Alter ego gained control of my brain
Opened my throat, soaked me in gasoline and engulfed me in flames
I think my brain’s corrupt
Haunted by visions of torturing women
While each of their lips are stapled shut
Love the bitter taste of blood
Immense strength from my punch will cause your head to combust and disintegrate to dust
A dangerous beast, restrained from the streets
Vapour’s released whenever I breathe's a contagious disease
Beyond losing my faith, views are deluded and strange
A psycho whose diet consists of human remains
I chose to gamble, escape asylum life
And roam the shadows with broken shackles on both my ankles

[Hook: Posessed]
We got an iller instinct spitting nothing but flames
Nothing has changed, rappers still got nothing to say
And we dedicated time to perfect the craft
Cause we the chosen few that still respects the art
And we’re overdue in the vocal booth
We got an iller instinct that we’ve shown and proved
And we dedicated time to perfect the craft
We the chosen few that still respects the art
[Verse 3: Psiklone]
Yo injected my blood with measureless drugs for an adrenaline rush
Feel no pain impaling my back on an elephant’s tusks
Unsettled, challenge ogres to mud wrestle
Munch metal then pump iron like blood vessels
Verses turning God to an atheist
Brain waves electrocute people in a kilometer radius
Archangel born from dark Satan’s spawn
Holes in my fitted cap from razor sharp bladed horns
On open mics rocking a death mask
Swim underneath battleships just to swallow a depth charge
I’m the lightning inside magnetic storms
Both my lungs hold so much skunk that they’re like a chest of drawers
Reflexes of giant tarantulas holding nitrogen canisters
Spit flames, burning cypher parameters
(We the illest) you rhymers are talentless
At the end of the day I’m resting my case like retiring barristers

[Hook: Plazma]
We got an iller instinct spitting nothing but flames
Nothing has changed, rappers still got nothing to say
And we dedicated time to perfect the craft
Cause we the chosen few that still respects the art
And we’re overdue in the vocal booth
We got an iller instinct that we’ve shown and proved
And we dedicated time to perfect the craft
We the chosen few that still respects the art
[Verse 4: Skirmish]
Planning to overthrow Lucifer when death calls
I’m able to gouge my eyes, start using them as stress balls
Trapped with no way out my mind
Rappers are tied down to pyres so they bound to die
Turn your walks of life to a death march
Impenetrable skin that contains fibres of Kevlar
Dodge bullets from shooting pains
I get goosebumps from the cold blood moving through my veins
A legion of ghostly shadows, galloping centaurs
Heartless demons, armed with bows and arrows
A stampeding devilish man-beast
That shatters the sound barrier - break the record for landspeed
Each step compresses the earth flat
I release toxic fumes and rappers get on my nerve gas
Crazy rap maniac, re-enacting horror scenes
Lost MC, bop the street strapped with body heat

[Hook: Psiklone]
We got an iller instinct spitting nothing but flames
Nothing has changed, rappers still got nothing to say
And we dedicated time to perfect the craft
Cause we the chosen few that still respects the art
And we’re overdue in the vocal booth
We got an iller instinct that we’ve shown and proved
And we dedicated time to perfect the craft
We the chosen few that still respects the art