Assistance required, help! Help! He's sinking!
He pulled out the jesters, oh no, what's he thinking!
They tend to laugh with me, I'll have you know
But kindly bear with me while I help you grow

Out of the damn weird need to just straight up lie
Now try not to wince, 'cause I'm about to let fly.
You wants beats? Here's a beatdown, I mean don't sweat it
It's just what happens when you turn up and be clown.

...

Ready? 3...2...1...

Hunting ground? More like dumping ground.
Head on over and just jump around,
And wave your arms like you just don't care.
Damn, the smell really gets everywhere, huh?

Sailing up and down 'round Ignorance Sea,
Mess around, find out, dont wait for me,
Why your mind's like an ocean, a mass grave for notions,
Wet and transparent and with little commotions.

But I tire of bleating at you in slow motion,
So let's pick it up,
Turn it up,
Check this out,
Get a potion!

If you can't keep up!
Won't keep up!
Won't shut up!
Won't put up!

Or put out the fire,
Of meager desire,
And budding ambition.
Wannabe erudition.
Cognition,
Rendition,
Emission-

I'll make you transition to a whole new line,
Measure and time.

Oh no, he's shakin'. No, wait, he's fine!
It's just the brine.
Pickled cabbage rhyme,

Is what I suffer every single time!
What you get is just what's on offer,
From this shady fruit merchant's stinky coffer.

Don't you dare act insulted, you opened this door,
The hollow head echo just comes back with more

And more of the same,
You see how it is.
If words are the flame, and rhyme is the fizz,

My poetry cooks, my verse is just blistering.
The truth is you're done.
You're the Fist? Stick to fisting.

Penned by my hand on the 3rd of Mayan, in the year 996 AF.