too many emcees, not enough mics the wack overshadowing a lot of whut's tight too many emcees, not enough mics the wack overshadowing a lot of what's tight extra nice when i bless the mic they all think i'm an asshole, i guess they're right give me a pen to write, it's the end of times i can't die when i'm already dead inside you'll all die when i summon the darkness everybody around me is becoming a target loving the carnage, look at the blood on the carpet the tip of my tongue is the sharpest stuck in place, feeling like i'm fucking retarded trying to swim after getting dumped in a tar pit i turn the radio on, there's nothing but garbage shattering my dreams of becoming an artist ..