{Verse 1}

The disconnection that i feel infesting 

When I don’t put pen to paper

Bread to baker or sonic to SEGA

Awej hogs the mic in on it for days huh

Addicted like chronic and Dre, astronomically made

I’m done with all the typing it’s bad for my soul

I can’t stomach all the lying

I put my funding into rhyming 

All this gumption I rely on I built up now I’m coming for the titans

In the pages of my rhyme book lives the spirit of Coeus

Intelligent within minutes his voice put

Broken jaws on open floors

The stars in his eyes indifferent from the bars that he writes

Look at the outlines it’s about time that I’m outside 

And shout right at you loud guys

Incurable addiction that I have 

I think murals are the pictures in my pad

But I can’t draw 

So you pricks are just the liquid that I spat

My pen go in

Imagine I walked with a limp and had a purple soul

My wings snapped it’s icy but birds just call

I learned it all and cut circles from verbal wolves  

Workman’s tools scratch markings to attack the back 

I heard it all but I’m starting to in actual fact burst from holes 

My syntax is mad my verses pull me from the dead I deserve to crawl

{Verse 2}

Can you picture my prophecy? I paint it with honesty

Make you feel safe with astronomy

It’s blatant they’re gonna be saying on top of me

The journals I make are just scholarly,

If you turn you’re back you’ll be facing astronomy

The stars aligned and my past defined 

Most the bars I write

But I can’t decide if it was on purpose or the starting line

But this monsterous monster is conjuring stomping

Through problems, Godzilla the good killer

Atom splitter that got iller song hearer

Melodically methodical top spitter bomb dropper

Hater of top shotter and shot poppers

Calculated rhymer never bound to waste a fiber

I was down to take a pen everywhere 

Throughout my brain and head until we 

Found a place to rest 

I was out the way again but 

Loud I made my chest so

How aren’t they impressed when 

I’m outwardly the best

{Bridge}

Candlelight brighter than tools made from anvil mite 

You are now inside the dismantled mind

Of a man who off the handle flied 

After ample tries I was handed a sign

{Verse 3}

My phoenix feathered quill burns up

You can see it when it spills

The purest form of immortality is my words

That live for centuries, when the verse is finished

It scatters into dust and picks more memories

I need me some crowd space 

So I made an EP about space 

And believe me I’m outraged

The respect I get isn’t the correct amount paid