Yeah… (Echo)
Marcanum X (Echo)
Quantum Chaotica… (Echo)
The Atomicypher… (Echo)
80 bars straight, one take… (Echo)
Yo… (Echo)

I'm an accommodation to an operation full of Harvard patrons
Who got the knowledge that'll stop assailants
Awful ventilation, persevering through the perspiration
Earth's a place of ecosystems and egotistic nations
Neolithic ancients encrypt through hieroglyphic spaces
Walls made with human flesh and cynical hatred
A 'matrix' (The Matrix) of mirrors with images of 'Keanu'
The 'United' States is full of 'dividends' (divide), just go read on 2
Tablets, commonly known as the 10 commandments
All of them were broken by unconstitutional transcripts
'Evil' makes itself look 'Good' with brand new tricks
Very contradictive like writing cursive in manuscript
Many fans spit the truth, making Stan puke again
Over not meeting his favorite rapper, losin' his temp
Verbally bruised, misused every time you choose to contest
Plugged up ego gets cleared out ya nose like Mucinex
Huge, complex lyrics makes you feel like youth again
Spews of phlegm deform your face, comin’ from beauty trends
A bright, young fellow should never have gloomy friends
Losers take 'credit,' but winners come out on top when a movie ends
Spooky blends of groovy bending roomy stench are truly kept secret
Like Sadat X, I'm a 'Brand New Bein' (Brand Nubian)
Restored, not reformed, or whatever doctrine you think it is
You say you speak European tongue but you can't finish (Finnish)
Freestyle or written, my rhymes will make you found missin'
Sounds’ll glisten on a tabernacle's floor, like howls from different
Canines, wolves and several coyotes
Ain't my flow supposed to be just like a federal alimony?
Computer enigma intertwines with a power plant
You get taken to my leader by infinite shrouds of ants
The same ones from the last Indiana Jones film
You are just a carbon copy that's from the clone realm
On Kamino, mentally mini like Danny DeVito
Triad symbols are everywhere, including in your Doritos
Smoking kids, knowing their part of an unholy clique
Every rap you'll ever write in life, it's erroneous
Dudes w/ acrophobia used to be acrimonious
Claiming voyeurism and violence are sanctimonious
You try to make a bittersweet rhyme euphonious
But that's when me and my brethren say 'you the foniest' (euphonious)
Anonymously parsimonious with bars and brutal odiums
Pinky finger alone will crush billions of Napoleons
My verse revolves around apparitions and ghostly prints
The truth about every lie ever told; I'm exposing it
Supposing this was made in Illuminati laboratories
Flows don't compare to this verbal stagnance pouring
Allegories make you say 3 words, "You bore me"
Before you start snoring, hear this 32-bar story:
Sodom and Gomorrah were the 'wickedest'
But does that really mean that I'm the only one in this biz
That understands hip hop better than anybody else
Since the 90s era, only obtaining knowledge of the self?
You claim to be Harvard cum laude
Grab major attention w/ hype on a mic, like a bum shouting,
"HEY!! Get back here you meathead!!"
My Atomicypher kill your rap sheets w/ unforeseen plans
You can be the emperor pushing open temple doors
Of your palace and see it shrivel up in chalice
Your little riddles of skills become miniature like Alice
You have no regard for morals like a Taoist
Malice enters your savage life, causin' balance
Like stability from cliff-to-cliff, hostile practice
Mucus, your serenade of rap is useless
You thought it could change the Ming Dynasty, or the blueprints
Of the infrastructure of the 8th and '9th Wonders'
In that sentence, I'm not talkin' about the producer from Little Brother
It's gonna take smart skills to surpass moi
You're a come-n-go dude in the game like David Benoit
The unseen hero of the entire story like Dash Rendar
Your rhymes are all trash, even if your pen's hard
Harder than the hardest video game difficulty
It's a compliment to call my lyrics phony
I hang up all my hate mail on my bedroom walls
Creating massive 'Beef Rapps' until MF Doom calls
To sue me for copyright issues and idea thievery
Even if I lose this battle, I'll process the word 'Victory'
Through the printer in Kool G Rap's home
With his signature on it, certifying my rhymin' is a dead zone
A dead end, a death trend, used by false prophets
That teach Marcanum X an MC that's all talkin' (echo) !!!