Syze spittin' is similar to Socrates philosophies/
Shit, I'd sooner resemble Socrates on soccer fields/
There's no stoppin' me, I sever spines with scissors/
Subtly suggest that Satan severs ties with sinners/
It's Simple Simon sacrificin' Satans son/
Should he return, I'll end his second life with staple guns/
Jason Statham runs from me like Sonic on speed/
Give Sharon Stone sulphuric acid trips, she'll swallow my seed/
Follow my lead, your shit seems shite when ya spit it so/
I'll start to spit schemes scribed on semitic scrolls/
You'll get swiss cheese sliced and riddled with holes/
I made Chris Reeves die from a visious stroke/
Pissin' on boats till the ship starts to sink/
I've sharpened spears so I can stick sharks and squids/
I'm smart and think ya spit shitty, I spit silly/
Go to Italy and turn Sicily into sin city/
Sail the seven seas and swim the tides/
I think its nice to breast stroke 'til I sink and die/
I synchronised my heart with this instrumental/
Squeeze shit loads of symbolism in a single sentence/
Got Sainsbury's shopping sacks that I keep for smothering/
My schematics and similes get deep like submarines/
I sliced your solar plexis then I sewed and I stitched/
I stood in front of the sun - it was a solar eclipse/
I'm holdin' my dick, squirtin' semen at Zeus/
Suck in cigarette smoke and start screamin' in schools/
Sautee Steven Spielberg's skin 'til it simmers 'n' spits/
Slice your baby sisters babysitters tits with scissor kicks/
Never miss the salient fact I've got chemical weapons/
I could snatch away your soul inside several seconds/
I use sentinel methods, shhhh, silence all/
This here - a sirens song Syze recited wrong/
I suggest sign language, I'm a slitherin' snake/
That'll make you shiver and shake like a simmerin' steak/
The life I'm livin' is fake, who knew the stork could bring/
A baby born with wings and a scorpion sting?/
Whisper sinister secrets, shit's getting intricate/
Membership schemes for my sick spitting syndicate/
Live a bit, find somethin' to love a lot/
I've nothin' to rhyme with that - sufferin' suckatage/
As a postman strike through the summers span/
Return gun in hand, I'm the frickin' Son of Sam/
Spontaneous combust when my wrist is slit/
Send this to person with a fuckin' lisp to spit/