eat your gun
call me the son of the only one
i say holy roller
hallelujah
peace of mind for an intruder
call Zapruder and he can document this
your descent into ignorant bliss
when they reminisce over you, my god
i hope they see your facade
train wrecking the spiritual mash up
runaway imagination
playing catchup
there's no standing still
getting corporeal on the real
billions of tiny mirrors
that remind me of self's reflection
as possessive as i am passive-aggressive
dig my cool, calm and collective
use it to cage the rage face layer
personal pervasive thought purveyor
with conveyor belt production
no obstructions
symphony of self-destruction
we've all got one
mine won't be over
'cause i won't write the coda
put the pen into my BadMotorFingers
to unveil the soul controller

appetite for deconstruction
that could make you eat your gun

eat your gun
didn't anyone see the elephant
that i left in this room
it consumed with totality
the contents of the peanut gallery
no allergy in this one
operates in nothing less than peak condition
such precision
even in the midst of chaotic times
and indecision
like a magician
turn nothing into something
on the upswing
pugilistic slight of hand
making it simple to understand
lamentations for the layman
with an opinion on these statements
rap genius can't decode it
the frame of reference is overloaded
saturated with a vast array in the chamber
that i spray anyway i choose
there's no ego to bruise
experience gave me the clues
proper views from the omnivision
keep my course far from collision
holding position
on the fringes of the sight line
waiting for the right time

appetite for deconstruction
that could make you eat your gun