Boko you should have self aborted, we supported the forfeit
afforded twelve lines but the poor kid's not worth it
your sordid fantasy is final and its mine to put to rest
with trance inducing spinal taps and psychiatric tests
mess with me in dreams, earn my gnarly mean flood
I burn marley green bud, churn charlie sheen blood
turned me cocaine monster, call me the crackin'
jack-in-the-pole on your mom's lactant rack n'
her black hole's vacuumin sack mackin' acumen
drastical soul attack radical tactician slow plow
I stow low brow know-how fantastic flow now
logo of the showdown glows loud, you can't land a blow, BLAOW
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