This is what happens when I try to rap way faster than I'm able to.

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I get on stage and impress all the rappers who used to think
they were the best. I get into people's brains and start
making a mess. And all the fellas think I look
great in a dress. I hate to digress, but
you're all mistaken unless you stop thinking that I'm
taking it less seriously because I bring the
entertainment and jest. Think I'm faking finess?
Bite me, so I can put a stake in your chest.
Burned to crust, turned to dust,
it takes an exorcism for a sucker to earn my trust.
I'm firm but just, and somewhat intelligent,
irreverent and about as elegant as an elephant.
Vincent E. L., the sentinel of decibel,
hellbent on getting the world sent to hell,
so rent a cell and excuse my eloquent irrelevance,
but I ment to tell you that

you're run of the mill, I'm point one in a million.
You make a fool of yourself, I poke fun at civilians.
I've got the cunning and brilliance
to musically corrupt the minds of hundreds of children,
but that's not my intent.
I'm just hot like Vincent.
What else could I possibly compare me to?
I mean, you're so far from heavy even I could carry you...

...and I'm one weak son of a bi***.
You won't be seeing me with a gun in a ditch,
so here I am, mic in hand, with my thumb on the switch,
helping the poor rapper by making fun of the rich.
You're Abercrombie & Fitch, I'm a yard sale.
You're short poem, I'm a tall tale.
You - soft scale. Me - pachyderm.
I'm a genius, you're a bladder worm.
I'mma splatter sperm all over your saddle burn
and wait for the tax return and while your back is turned
I'll crack an urn over your head and make you lick the ashes
off the floor and hope that you'll learn.
I act concerned when I don't give a flying f***.
I'm ahead of my time like Friar Tuck.
To those who seem to actively try to suck,
I'm dire luck like a fire truck with a tire stuck.

You're run of the mill, I'm point one in a million.
You make a fool of yourself, I poke fun at civilians.
I've got the cunning and brilliance
to musically corrupt the minds of hundreds of children,
but that's not my intent.
I'm just hot like Vincent.
What else could I possibly compare me to?
I mean, you're so far from heavy even I could carry you...

...off the stage, in a fit of hostile rage,
while writing words that jump off the page.
You're modern age, I'm lost in space, I keep ostentatious
rappers like you locked in cages
I'm not contagious, unfortunately,
my illness hasn't infected one boring MC.
They just keep getting worse and worse in the worst ways.
without even being sick in the first place.
I guess most rappers are hypochondriacs,
thinking that they're ill in spite of all the facts.
I cause heart attacks and cardiac arrest
just by beating the best beats through your chest.
I put MC's to the test tying a shoe lace.
I cut tracks tighter than blu-rays.
I've got as many rhymes as history has tuesdays
and about enough cash for a tube of toothpaste.
Two-face, Riddler, Joker and Bane...
I make Batman villains look totally sane.
I make Poison Ivy resemble a daisy.
Harley Quinn says I'm crazy.
People ask me what I'm on. I say the mic.
You don't get this high from a pipe.
You can't survive injecting this volume of skill.
This kind of loopy doesn't come in a pill.

You're run of the mill, I'm point one in a million.
You make a fool of yourself, I poke fun at civilians.
I've got the cunning and brilliance
to musically corrupt the minds of hundreds of children,
but that's not my intent.
I'm just hot like Vincent.
What else could I possibly compare me to?
I mean, you're so far from heavy even I could carry you...
You're run of the mill, I'm point one in a million.
You make a fool of yourself, I poke fun at civilians.
I've got the cunning and brilliance
to musically corrupt the minds of hundreds of children,
but that's not my intent.
I'm just hot like Vincent.
What else could I possibly compare me to?
I mean, you're so far from heavy even I could carry you home.