stripped of your fodder gotta say something quick
thats not just that predictable shit i can mop up with a paper towel
so get lit on some ganja and take a visit to God
cause no nun and no motherfucking pun can save you now

turn your counterfeit rhymes down a bit for a second
im about to spit some sick shit the sound of it is infectious
new sonic wave, modern day bubonic plague
clean slate, makin a real ugly mess along the way
i caught a virus and it spread to my sinus
spewing snot, sneezing out my brains
with a coup d'état mindset
topple the throne, sorry your highness
old stoner, those joints probably got arthritis

no hit that's wondrous
just a few singles in the midst of hundreds
just a few strings, drum kits, and trumpets
radical new things, is the subject

rappers with no heart, bout as hard as Mike's Lemonade
teenage  Disney shit cause that whiskey dick can’t penetrate
and what happened to that classic renegade?
puffing grass and passing out on your ass like you just can’t defecate
you're playing Candyland, go ahead and change the game
i fuck with history i doubt that you could say the same
i'd call you a cheater, and i'd pick a fight but
all you got is catchy beats to get drunk chicks excited

hail to the kings, no respect to the followers
seein’ the same things just with new monikers
honor the dead, but get on with the livin
if you ain’t changing minds you ain’t changing a bit

and we're ready for a renaissance…

i’ll lampoon your dance tune, stoner verbiage
cutting edge since an early age 
thats why my hands got so many scars on em
they've been burnt and singed
i play with chemicals i make a lot of mistakes but i learn from it
lyrical potency, acidic and i'm a cynic i admit it
mad scientist in the lab and i'm never finished
and my results bear the toll of the labor
enables me to be a whole ‘nother flavor
i come equipped with a toolbox, don't give a shit about the moolah
came to make fixes and Changes but i’ll always listen to Tupac
and i'm no badass but what i'm sayin ain't no zip a dee do dah
its got a kick to it, i’ll get cocky and get in a shutoff, verbally

Chorus

you can row, row, row, on that silly little flow
i’m flying above like a UFO
i zap words to smithereens, you best know
presto: i’m sticking these imageries 
in between odd and even pages and i don't even skip a scene 
words tremble like my uvula when i’m spitting em
you best remember, the future don’t exist till i’ve written it
haters whats up, haters whats up, i’m not waiting for love
ya’ll about to see what i’m capable of
and there will be
antidisestablishmentarianism, uh
like cant i diss a rapper with scary precision?
Sagittarius hand me your bow and i’m scaring em shitless
and by this i mean i’ll blot out the sun and bury ambitions

hail to the kings, no respect to the followers
seein’ the same things just with new monikers
honor the dead, but get on with the livin
if you ain’t changing minds you ain’t changing a bit

and we're ready for a renaissance...