Leviathans lie close to my heart but i would never think am smart
Stood in no regard for the best part of my art
Call it prose or bars spoke sharp by blowhards you
Need to seperate your facts from fiction
Practice your diction backslapping and spitting
A spat "you're past your best" that's past tense
Now we're in a spat that's past a tense situation
Patch that fast with these rap jazz hands
A can't stand when these class act cunts ask for cash
You'll get your facts redacted, fat chance
Standing in the fatcats land, inactive
Passive, vapid, throwing vile infectives
And you all think that you're helping
But a don't ask no questions
Just redemption, vendetta, excetera