Something Wicked This Way Comes
| Title | Something Wicked This Way Comes |
|---|---|
| Artist | Benefit |
| Album | B.E.N.E.F.I.T. |
| Release Date | 2002 |
| Description | ? |
| Lyrics | [Benefit] My microphone has grown out of my wrist bone I've lost control of my vocal tone, spitting this sick poem I'm possessed by hip-hop's delivering spirit And I fear it cause my hand is constantly scribbling lyrics I can't eat, or even sleep in my bed Tormented cause a beat will always creep in my head I can't listen to a drum loop without timing it Can't hold a conversation without rhyming it I walk down the street and my brain's known to rattle Cause I'm thirsty as hell for a mother fucking battle I have no TV, already broken three Cause I turn it on to see another whack emcee I have lyrics in my head that always stop and then go I constantly daydream about rocking a show Writing rhymes all my life as it begins and ends Broke as fuck cause I'm always out purchasing pens [Blitz] I'm the analyst, observe all angles of existence The last dime in the dollar, completing the sentence The ninety other pennies tossed through the wormhole Worthless as the bitch dancing naked on the pole I've seen twenty different worlds, at least eight dimensions A veteran amateur, with pens instead of pensions Who's the next worthless soul ready to stand up Thinking they got the Holy Grail but they're sippin' the false cup Lately I've been spotting, on the words of the rotton With my looking glass, and hands to the upper class Groups of blinded ones gather at a steeple I label it a meeting place for meaningless people Coalitions are hard rocks living without purpose I sarcastically attack with a woman word circus A surface of slippery ice, a dangerous crack In the path of the ones who walk with their minds slacked [Lawson] Verge in the microphone, you begin to panic Because I'll make the crowd seem the like the Atlantic That your style is Frantic It's so whack the store banned it Had people covering their ears saying I can't stand it My style is so fly you can't land it, I bring the supply because people Demand it My rhymes stand alone like they were abandoned Three hundred and sixty degees my CD's outstanded It's so smooth it feels like it was sanded Figures of speech make me smile like you were uncandid I'll pass you like you were handed When I come with lines that punch like a fist Taking your microphone so fast cracking the bones in your wrist Seperating you from me like mist Eliminate the competition, by spitting from every dimension mentioned Benching emcees for flinching as I build up tension Clenching the number one spot Leaving your body to corrode and rot (to corrode and rot) You might also like[Rek] Pass me the mic, I'll ignite like the birth of a constellation Spit rhymes without hesitation, poetic devestation Hip-hop's my love and recreation Causing me to rise like elevation, syllables slice causing decappitation I hold the mic tight enough for strangulation Getting technical like a capotilist algorythm is my precision Broad angle like pereputal vision Code like red, I drop lines like a clumbsy cokehead Judge like Dredd, the countdown to the twelve hour has begun I'm the one, the chosen son, On an odyssey like Space 2001 A new day has begun and the weight on my shoulder outweighs a ton And always when I rhyme, something wicked this way comes |