This Torsion

[Verse 1]
George said, “I don’t know what anybody thinks”
The fact is nowadays, nobody thinks
No one forms an opinion
There’s no like or dislike of anything
No judgement of your fellow kin
Just hello ma’am
Yo fam and hola blah blah
It’s conversational mutual masturbation
But it only works on these brain dead nagers
Goodies are left out of this circle jerk gang
But goodies are who keep this world working
Not conceited, you’re eventually
A fleeting thought, you’re dead to me
I am great even though I’m dead to these pinheads
You have the slightest of what’s zen in me
And that’s what’s keeping you blinking
That’s why you are existing
If you want to be good to the nth degree
If you want to be fantastic, amplify it
I am the model to have in mind with
No matter what I here say
There will be some queer gay
Who resembles the devil I conjure… real take
So that leaves me.. escaping
I don’t feel bad, I feel glad
It sounds crazy, it’s real facts
I just want the rhyme to hurt you with
This is my trade
And people only change when they feel the blade
And you have a long way
Before you are people again
But me—a perfect human being
I think I’m getting through see
They’re humoring
And it’s not dearth humility
It’s someone who kneels
Before what makes the seas
And shores sheen

[Verse 2]
Disgusting being in the same room as you
And it feels worse yet when there’s two of you
Stupid fools
Be complacent, that’s what I want
I’m in the basement where I stock up
I’ve got an armament
So with your mother a whore and your father a cuckold
You must be a duckling
How you’re sucking the munchkins
That’s okay
Long as there’s no contact made
But you can’t make a way
When the heir is making waves
I praise the public shooter, terrorist
So long’s they only spray the clips
At eaters of animal anguish
But who of them can tell
I know what they eat, so hell
Send them all to hell
And let them then
Feel the fires that the devil sets
Each and every last one of their babies
Reach out and feel/grab one of these babes here
Feel the wrath of a major pain in the a near
In the rear
She’ll send one of those fudge packers
I’m from Chicago though so fuck the packers

[Verse 3]
But back to me
You would make a bland emcee
While I’m the man
Who rules the land of
These wack emcees
What’s wrong, huh?
Dumb problem
Don dada has a tool
To readjust your attitude so chop chop
I’m the mechanic
And the mack rapper
Who dares come ‘pon
Test me now
Get the bumbaclot
Head cut off
Giving getting head from
Wouldn’t you like to know about her
Get down and kiss the ground
That I walk on
All service robots
Step up and suck the balls
Of your highness
Until the scrotum gets stuck
In your windpipe
Lick my nuts up and down
’til you don’t know up from down
Prepare
To have your memory wiped clean
No longer there
Get a new pair of screens move
For this new CPU
Now wipe me down
Until the penis is nice and clean
Just light and brown
And just put on my gown