Counseling

[Verse 1: Tago Proto]

Welcome to counseling for the poetically impaired

You will need to facilitate, embarrassed, and rehabilitate

It’s code that I contact my convoluted constituents

Camu and Cop’, we’ve come to cloud a clan’s cognizance

Command craps and cause crowds’ claps, credits, and compliments

I’ll absorb then emit you as a liquid then sip you

Then piss you. Faker’s trachea as my commode

For swallowing a medicine ball with [?]

Most haven’t the right to hold. You’re dumbfounded often

Unscripted soliloquy, I trip a millipede and drown a dolphin

We concentrate, so comprehension takes patience

Beats that keep a genius out of sync/sink like clean dish

Take him off of this dean’s list. Jakki’ll testify

I came in the picks and stayed in the mix like the letter “I”

Solidified [?] and molecules took flight

Now that you’re sweating, I know what estrogen looks like

What I invest in compress men into Chessman

Defining me is kind of like the twenty-seventh letter or, better

Mega… out of my audience, fifty

Percent are enlightened, and the other half are frightened

[Verse 2: Jakki Da Motamouth]

I’m one obnoxious motherfucker that’ll leave a thousand rappers moping

Grab the mic, I close it down, and say, “This shit’s no longer open”

It’s my mic, and if you attempt to grasp, like using my bare hands

To tear your pet donkey in half, I’ll rip your ass

Your fate is fed ‘til you bite force, I’ll take your hand, then lift you up

And throw you off the stage and make you break a leg

Ain’t no fucking Jakki, OK. My style’ll fold ya. Try to

See me, and you’ll see me leave you with a case of glaucoma

Who you raising your voice at? (Man, what the fuck?) Still trying to keep your faith?

My fist’ll take the resin out your voice and decrease the bass

You fucking with me only proves that you’re an old fool

Your style is like adult education ‘cause it’s old-school

You last? How? I crash your computer style like

“My name is Y2K, I’m here to shut your ass down”

And if skill is what you think you kicking, I’ll assure your chicken

That your skill is nonexistent like fat-free chitlins

After I’m done fucking your girl, you can defend your honor

We can have a freestyle contest, the winner gets your mama

We all know that you a virgin who ain’t been sticking like a farmer

Who’s angry with his poultry, you choke your chicken

Keep trying to walk your talk, let’s see how long you maintain

I’ll paralyze your cerebral cortex and make you a lame brain

Pimps, players, gangsta rappers, you and your bland whores

I’ll knock you out the box like a homeless nigga’s landlord

I’ll designate the place to battle. You’ll be too frightened

Like Clash of the motherfucking bitch-ass Titans

Nigga, get off the stage. Your rhymes are too vaginal

I’ll throw a punch to your spine and have you walking diagonal

So who taught these pussies to speak when not spoken to?

You concentrate on rapping. Nigga, I’ll concentrate on choking you

[Bridge: Scratches by RJD2]

[Verse 3: Camu Tao]

Galaxies switch, angles inflict, pain

Among, brains are sprung, singles and scripts to take

Great to plate, distributing prohibited to radio play

Bring swords, cell matter confirms

Scatter from Earth, shatter and blur, blistering scant, listening in

Echoes ricochet, exoskeletons for eons

And misled and misfed and fed misinformation

And instead of despair, we sell others each

And others teach. This shit malarkey. This copy flipped the bitch

To floppy and marketed to cut the major artery

And main muscle. My brain tussles awkward oxy over

Orthodoxy, sort of mingle, jaw run choppy

You can’t duplicate space except what’s in

Your own span (My nigga), control what’s in your own space

Shift shapes into something usually distasteful

Chemicals involved dissolve, and you should make your face fold

[Verse 4: Copywrite]

Chronically ill phonic spiller. Physics talk like they seen

This page. Evade, drop the mic

Leave the stage, collapse when my traps are set

Or we’ll make an exchange: while I catch wreck, you can catch your breath

Megahertz a nine-letter word for omnipotence

Your special bland brand of bullshit’s got me open

To diss you and whoever you’re close with

Your label’s interested? OK, but I got demands: I want

The ocean then you thrown off the highest cliff

And Congress to pass a law that everyone must buy this shit

When contact with Einstein was made, I provided wits

While you got the mental strength of five minus six

Everything I’ve learned I apply to this, so unless

You’ve had a brain transplant with me, don’t try to exist. Y’all bite

My shit? Turn and claim you’re tight with my clique?

Only thing we got in common is we're both riding my dick

And not until now have I seen such a strange kind

So full of confidence yet so full of shit at the same time

Give me the deck. Fuck pulling your cards. I want you

To fuck up so I can tell you how stupid you are