I feel a chill it's real ya still see tha clouds I'll be a proud weather caster
behind us we line up to get yur rap first with a storm u can measure after
a release brings me peace as I stress life into tha next night in a new york town
it's either u or clowns it's on tha news floor now there all guessing who tore ground
no need to be rational this rap bursts in to action so with that first
if I rip through I won't miss u tha issues a reigning national disaster
a white man with no flight plans just a pen in my right hand as I write slang
over tha network as long my net works my sight scans it on tha map as ice land
it's not really worth much u won't see tha surge rush or a flooded path
tha one thing yur love did have was just cut in half by a fucking axe