I'm a wordsmith. My expertise is in word formation and rhyming compilation. I'm going to revolutionize hip hop with unique, fiery lyrics that rhyme throughout the entirety of their tracks.

Good artists create their own material, great artists do also and are likewise original.

Shots in the dark sometimes hit.

I am a leader. It's a role that I have been given in life and I have just grown to accept it over the years. Whether it is acknowledged by men or whether it is not acknowledged by men, I am a leader as made by God. Would you like to be a leader? Think about that or maybe you already have. Be honest about it. Would you like to be a leader? If your answer is yes, then you probably aren't meant to be one. That's kind of how this thing works.

My swings getting better, racking up them ko’s.My swords getting sharper. You see how it glows?I’m not talking metal or tangible flame.I’m talking my mental not being the same.I’m changing things up. Get used to this view.I do what I can to give you a clue.There’s no dead end in this rendezvous.So follow directions and you’ll make it through.

I won’t check my boots at the door,so I don’t know what you’re waiting for.Yeah, I’m gonna mess up your floorwith big clodhopper prints you can’t ignore.Five. Four. Three. Two. See.Now everyone come follow me.Let’s clean house with the industrythat wants our eyeballs stuck on its vanity.Abracadabra. What say, ya?I’m still here, and you see me clear.Propaganda. Big hook… eh..I’ll be here, no where even near.

Pull the plug and drain your brainof thoughts you don’t want to remain.Scratch the surface of your mindand see what numbers you can find.Clock the speed and then resetthe play on life, the alphabet.Set the pieces in their place—the scrabble board, a database.Dare your dreams to watch you soaron mental wings built on their shore.And when a wake is held for you,gleam like the sun in life anew.

There is not a savant with a bold enough fontthat could teeter taunt me with a vauntor leave me in want of the croissant they flauntserved cold from their gaunt blank-shot restaurant.I say nonchalant, that croissant hasn’t gota hot enough spot to hit a jot in my lotof connected dots in thoughts that don’t rotor get pulled like slots on strings that get caught on lines that aren’t bought or caught on a hook shot.

You can riddle me this and you can riddle me that,but at the end of the day you’re still a cat in the hat.Hitching a ride on someone else’s brain.Riding a track on someone else’s train.The mask that you put on me fits really wellon the lines that you cast to fish that can’t tellhooks from candy canes or candy canes from me.Once upon a time there was transparency.

My thinking knows no bounds, I’m not one to stay ina mental elemental instrumental play pen.So portray me as you will, but your frame will not fit.I’m unique in intellect, and I’m as me as they get.