Post Traumatic Warlab Stress

I'm the black mutant of rap music, half human half Vladimir Putin

After plasma transfusion I became Rasputin

The master of translucence who lives in a green house

Creatin' green gas pollution, smokin' hash from hookahs

Before Lucifer sent me back to the future to smash computers

Assassinate classes of students, I spare those who show classic improvement

Produce magik acoustics, supreme music using dreams so lucid

I can visualize my future and chose it, I never abuse it

I'm ruthless but Canibus is super illumine

You know what? I read the blueprint

Sometimes it seems like my eyes are wide shut like Stanley Kubrick

Mic Club the Curriculum II,

I changed the name 'cause I ain't in business no more with you-know-who

He stole from Killah Priest too, his name rhymes with Clue

I found out the same time as you,

You know what happens when you come from dishonest roots

You put roots on me, I put roots on you

"We live in a free country"

That phrase is so fuckin' funny, we know freedom is based off the money

Resources to hide behind lawyers, it must be lovely

When nobody can touch your lunch meat

We brainwashed, we can't get these white collar stains off

Poor Bernard Madoff belongs in the graveyard

The stock market trade off doesn't pay off

We get laid off, the country spirals into chaos

I'm no genius, I know enough not to trust FEMA

Their vaccines give ya eczema of the penis

The Tuskegee Jesus verses a sneaky Tuskegee Demon

What you gon' do when you see this? !

The oldest religions, the coldest magicians

Transmittin' live from Hell with heat stroke symptoms

Symbicort is a success for those short of breath

Got to wait for the next check 'cause I can't afford it yet

DZK come slaughter the set, tell Warbux he got next

Post Traumatic War Lab Stress

I always open wide like a great white, mouth full of steak knives

Chewin' through the sewer's main line 'til it drain dry

And when you're waist high in waste

I make planned attacks on every last base camp in your wasteland

I scheme for weeks and draft designs on how to craft my rhymes like a mastermind

Whether young or past your prime I'll eat you alive

Ain't no motherfucking reason to try, just die

Hope you're ready to run

I'll cut the tongue out of my son just to stay number one

No one will ever sit on my throne except my clone replica

Who will never be better than what they stole the genetics from

Gangbang, the beats we slang language

Which alleviates your teenage angst and break cages

Now we're runnin' through the streets with our leash off

Eatin' all your stray pets shittin' on your police cars

Cause' I'm a beast dog, you don't want no beef punk

Hit you with a meat log bigger than a tree trunk

I kick the shit that make you pee all in your jeans chump

Clean up after my show better bring a steam pump

I fuckin' breathe funk ain't no fuckin' Tic Tac existing

That's big enough to clean up this act you're trippin'

You cannot begin to comprehend, if you cross me

The position you'll all be in

This isn't battle rap, maggot, this is me with a battle axe

Swingin through your Cadillac imagine that

You fuckin' headless metal wreckage in the shattered glass

I give a fuck about your backpack and faggot ass

Dim those lights I'm kimbo Slice on a mic

But I don't lose none of my big pro fights

I just bruise dudes twice my size and crews move

When I maneuver through 'em smooth they know who's who

I clear the room with a sonic boom and nuclear plume

You should assume I ain't got a lotta provin' to do

I'm bring doom to musicians with a feminine groom

Kanye West, best believe I'm looking at you

Call it I'll by design, that's how to define us

Cause in the Warlab with me we got it down to a science

This is underground at it's finest

The most talented rhymers around

Shittin on all of you clowns and cowards who sign us

So go ahead you'll have hell of a time

Tryin' ta find a rapper with lines as compelling as mine

You talking about a fellow with the will to confine himself

To a cellar developing his rhymes for years to stay on his grind

This is Melatonin Magik

You wet behind the ears like playing telephone with faggots

So let em know, they spend an o and cellulose and acid

These heads will roll, we send 'em home in yellow woven baskets

The ninja rap stars just as explodes to the scene

My blades will cut up your back like a rowing machine

It could get ugly if they don't intervene

Cause I could make your life flash before your eyes like I'm throwing it beads

I'm incoherent or so it would seem

No I'm esoteric and don't care if you know what I mean, that's the spirit

Cause it's apparent if you took half of what passes for lyrics and compared them to mine

Hip hop should be fuckin' embarrassed

So did you really want to flow with the gods?

I'm too educated, haters couldn't cope with the odds

See I studied Biggie and Pac, Hova and Nas

Paganini and Bach, Beethoven and Brahms

You are now in the presence of a master musician

I craft my rap with the precision of a mathematician

Or a surgeon, performin' a thoracic incision

A magician escaping out of his shackles in prison

Before you could even finish saying oh my god

I'll spit a motherfuckin' verse to fill your whole ipod

I'm the rip the jacker prodigy

Motivated by the golden age of rap back in the older days

The incredible little fellow with rhythm and timing on instrumentals

The shit I've said in the rhyme could be considered a federal crime

Like blowin off your head with a 9

Anyone with a shred of intelligence could tell it's just ahead of it's time

I'm too sick, ain't even talking about the music

Keep my fuckin' name out of your mouth, need a toothpick?

You a little confused like who's this dude

"This is a W-A-R-B-U-X exclusive"

The underdog, like back in the bible with Noah's arc

To entrusted military titles to Joan of Ark

To Napolean Bonaparte down to Rosa Parks

And the medics attempting rescue, breathin' on Owen Hart

This fucker 'Bux is the shit

So who really gives a fuck if he's busting a clip

In public drunk in the trunk of your whip

The diabolical, alcoholical, comically pharmaceutically phenominal

Product of poppin' pills

And you are not as I'll, check your doctors bill

I'm more dangerous in the streets than a toxic spill

Yo this is 50 bars of sickness

Consider it a Christmas gift to you 'Bis don't forget this