Intelligent, Mellow shit kills fellowships bellowing freestyles
Smile. Punch lines can crush the spines of the skeptics
Three guesses who the best is
Can, Can Qwel, Qwel rock, rock?
Can, cans paint paint not now
Look out below, its that flow that you were shoutin' 'bout so loud
Crush flows are mudslides
I'm Ha ha that ra(?) with punchlines
Funny like when the thug sun dies at moonrise
Echos at graveyards are speakin' of us(Echoed)
Seekin to touch those rainbow demons breathin' beneath graffiti buffs
Fucking bleeding down the side of silver snakes
Holler in a hollow-safeguard(?)
Dollars in graveyards fill your graves
Listen through submission and sadistic cultures
And demon's guns surround our suns like Copernicus-tic vultures
And search for serpents in our verses
Your crew bleeds too profusely
Who gave groupies loose-leaf
Standing over the remains of a slain fifth-grade class mate
Pretending not to envy me
But readily sending he____ of frenzied centipedes
Motherfuckers lack intensity
I see words, split 'em in twice with reverbs
You blow like you're poprocks with 3 liters
Snap your fat lackin' tracks in half
Qwel sees above weak emcees
Investin'in broke for lines
rehearse your speech slurs
'Till the glitches in my wrist digits salute the richest humans
The worst heard herbal verbalist
My thirst for herbs further disturbs this itch
Smashin' furnishings after class
With the get in your ass pass, rappin backwards
Askin' for herbs and the last laugh, laugh