Spittin' rhymes with Terezi, here son And I'm officially the candidate for having some fun (You know) Bustin' shit for y'all, I quickly spit But the fellas you are with, They ain't even legit, (because) I'm a Strider and there ain't none finer All you other rappers try, but this gap is even wider than This role impossible Try to step to the knight with the clock control I digress, putting you in distress You know I got the finesse Always dress to impress (The best) Got a sword, but I ain't gonna use it Got my lyric weapon here, you know that I'll never refuse it (It's) too easy to dunk on you clowns When my sick rhymes always keepin' me down (Oh shit) Bustin' old school style Now the class is in session So stay for a while (Cause I'm) too fresh, here in the flesh Here it's better than the epic of Gilgamesh You think you're clever or better but that's whatever Rhyming ever is forever but never a self-aggressor (Yeah) Should I count all the reasons you're a zero? You've got no cash and a troll body-pillow Got the honey and the money so much that it ain't funny This is why I'm on top and I ain't gonna stop (Here) Got this rhyme And it's keeping in time In the words of myself; it is truly sublime It's prime, it's a crime to keep it this real Better lock me up 'Cause I ain't gotta reveal (this steel) Ideal, but you can't relate How 'bout you go back to your pillow and masturbate (Ooooh) I'm sorry, did I say that out loud? It's too bad that my lyrics are supremely endowed So let me say that in conclusion, if you have any confusion, there's no optical illusion; all these words are no exclusion, if you want a bad contusion, I can give them in profusion, that there ain't no collusion. My vocal electrocution has the lyric restitution, not your lame-ass air pollution. There, I got the whole solution, with the high-class execution. Under constant evolution, start a Strider revolution, 'n yo jumpass institution with wisdom that's so confusion