Basically a whole bunch of punchlines and metaphors rolled into 3 minutes and 55 seconds.

» highest in charts:   # 526   (1,508,884 songs currently listed in HipHop)
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I was sitting in my car and all these thoughts came to me. I went to the studio and recorded the track. I did the vocals in about 10 minutes...This was basically a 1 take joint.

Random Thoughts

Categorically I metaphorically climb hills. With abstract thoughts, my mind fills.
Your blind shields can’t stop my mental mine fields.
Divine skills yield rhyme spills (flows). Everyone knows that wasted time kills
So I kill time by wasting it. Chasing it then erasing it
Means I’m losing something that I’m trying to hide. On the inside
My internal inferno burns infinitely, eternal like number 8 turned sideways.
My mind’s a maze and I amaze with a fire phrase an entire phase of a population
Yearning for masturbation of the thought process. I possess the ability
To give you mental orgasms so intense that your ears drip.
My gears slip from overdrive to neutral, but only when I straddle fences.
I knock you senseless with endless, tremendous vocal mind benders for BOTH genders
Cause I didn’t write this just to get some ass. In a flash I rehash the past
With present-day future. Do I suit ya? Or did I lose ya?
Perhaps your mental sutures should be removed so your mind can be opened.
(Random Thoughts)
My brain operates at light speed. Just looking at my notes makes your eyes bleed.
My mental highs feed empty ears hungry for a different taste, a change of pace
And based on…NOTHING! (It’s all random)
The grand sum of the parts of thoughts, ideas, and words forms a synergistic poetic stew
That boils over each time I vocalize. My real eyes realize real lies.
I clearly rise, rise clearly over each untruth. My flows—uncouth, unorthodox
But far from the norm that you’re used to hearing. So I won’t be adhering
To conventional rhyme schemes and patterns. My verbal high beams illuminate Saturn
And lick the crack of Venus while Serena waits HER turn!
Existential linguistics surround my existence like electrons to a nucleus.
I own the dubious distinction of being able to collect every aspect of dialect
And inject it with the sleekest, slickest, sickest wickedest flows
This side of Afros, cornrows, big nose, and a double dose of melanin.
Each tale I spin changes courses. Of course this reinforces my metamorphosis.
Your orifices and pores absorb scores of unclear ideas that appear in the rear of my throat
And erupt from my mouth in the form of a lyrical cough.
And now you’re infected with deep thoughts and metaphors.
(Random Thoughts)
My vision speaks, so I always verbalize (verbal eyes).
I despise complacency, latency, cerebral vacancy. Fellow lyricists—they can see
That it often pisses me off when mental coffins are filled with dead brain cells.
Your game fails when lame tales dominate your speech.
You can’t teach this style of poetspeak; it’s deeply imbedded in my DNA
Beneath internal valleys and peaks and cells. I excel when I speak
And expel flows that leak freely like tears from the eyes of T.O.
In a post-game interview. I’m through!