It's hirst/hearse verses and murakami/murder coming rhyming

All my raps is (superflat), all your raps is super wack

Tell him that the future's back, delorean rolling down the block

You can call it shooting craps, and my roof is back

And my wings is up

Kingda ka without kahlua, so you ain't got to pour the king a cup

Young yakuza but, none of my fingers cut

So I can still sip red zinger with my pinkies up

Made/maid man, you can call this cleaning up

I'm ocd, I never think it's clean enough

That's what defines me, I never think it's mean enough

Lines deeper than those waiting on a sneaker, cuz

You gone need two heads like the king of clubs just to figure out the meaning of

I'm just achieving buzz so stay out of son/sun way like you're drinking blood

This is what it feels like to be in love

I mean come on, I mean look at what I'm dropping here

Do this for the block and the blogosphere

No, you ain't ready for the heavy, so I'll keep it light as jogging gear

I don't want the throne, I want the helicopter rocking chair

Jay gave me a co-sign like I was rocawear, but be clear I'm not the air/heir

I'm the water, fire and the earth

That means I'm doing dirt, spitting flames and quenching thirst

And plus the real god has been on my side since birth

I hope that he forgives me, I hope I do his work in every single verse

Now I might do a dance, I might even jerk, tell them niggas don't hate

Only god is great, enemy of the state