Alchemisland

When I light piffs that’s my beacon lit

And Rohan shall answer

Ask and get answer

Take a chance, be a chancer

You take every lump

You take a champ toke off my blaster like Greedo who shot after

If I had a gat, thank god I don’t, I’d be your master; hear it popping off like a hopped on blisterpack or blown up bubblewrap.

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I’d blow you up and sky you fast

Give you to demons for their feast

I’m like first we feast got hot ones ‘round

Your final song is my shotgun sound

I never intended to hit send but I’m living my lessons

Lessening my dividends, sending out blessed elements

Increasing my eminence, word count twice Eminem’s.