Got it locked...

[bez]

My flows so sick its criminal, even,
Behinds bars so ripped makes sound when ya read em,
Stripped down to ya feelins, make a killin off winnin,
Leave blood spillin cos the subliminal is bleedin,
Onto the floor, up the boards and walls,
Ya lyrics wider like broads and hor's vagina walls,
Smere me, really? I take two an make em four,
Cos I rip em into pieces, ate em up, cos I rip em some more,
Reality is different but this is cyberspace,
Perceptions are insignificant so I monitor the place,
Keep law and order if you falter, your out!
I'm the Sergeant of these parts, this is my slaughter house,
So I call you out, lay you out, motherfuckin chalk you out,
Attack everything you talk about, all talk, nothin else,
Sick individuals wit messed up principles,
Think I get stressed, whut?! my beats above clinical,
Carry on regardless but Bubba's rhymes lack spark,
Sure they gotta mouth fulla semen just like a killer shark,
I kill at heart, in your sleep, countin sheep an zeroes,
Skittin my lines but they come hella soft like the devils pillows,
Fuckin minnows know its over, I ain't even tryin...
Brought keystyle back, an I aint even lyin...

[QuietTruth]

That was nice, the concept and the rhymes.

[bez]

Cheers mate. My first drop in a while so tar for the comment