11:06 Freestyle (The Farmer)

I was raking my rhyme harvest
When some mindless carcass
Wants to see who can flex the hardest
Or who's dick is the largest
I say its not the vessel size
But the movement in the water
He retorts,
Well you must be the loser
That never left the harbor
A firestarter aka a wise guy
It was a good burn
But more like a finger tip to a hot fry
I could try to bring a tear to his eye
If I supply lyrical arms like octopi
Yea, I'm talkin four arms attached to my forearms
I store em up the sleeve and then pour em
Out like ribbons in optical illusion
Simple delusion with Asian fever fusion
To spell out confusion like a ancient sensei
I display an array of word play
On any given day, so here's my card
We'll do lunch like subway
Unless you want to get crunched
Like a crunch bar or a payday
Snicker
No I'm not bitter
But you guys bicker
baby kittens in a litter
Or 2 rival babysitters
Sitting the same baby
Well my mouth doesn't have a safety
So you little ladies get the bends like a Mercedes
When I spit rounds
Littering the ground as my sound pounds like English currency
Surrounds and rains down judgment like Sodom's first town
So if you scream out Mercy, I understand
So lets shake hands my fellow man
So I can rake my land again
Good day