ICON II: Lyrics

If your loop is dope, then I might give it a shot

And if it's not then imma sock you with a fist on the spot

Is he really serious? Maybe, probably not

But for the sake of this song, you'll get rocked and those jaws'll drop

This autist honest in like 70 percent of the rhymes

Inside lines, he might embellish from time to time

Carter's still realer then those basic acts

Faking facts, mixing my rage and teenage angst in tracks

Me and Cannon iconic, man there's no faking that

Intermedia the monicker, you might as well face the wrath

Claim this strange, "I can't relate to that!"

Cause my target is the artistic you're not even who I’m aiming at

Your brain's plain, it's as plain as that

Looking at me like "how the heck is he arranging that?"

Bad memory, bad at chemistry, barely got any friends to see

But I'll assure through words that those listening will remember me

Kryptonite, whatever, I’ve got several names

To match each separate persona that lay inside my mind-frame

It’s almost like my names Bates, lifestyle of the insane’s the norm

Like I was born with a brain deformed

Haven’t released in some months but when it rains, it’s pouring

Flood incoming, build an ark when a tapes reported

After three I was impatient, now you kids are just are stalling

And by the fourth, kicking the door in like I’m Christopher Wallace

Three fifteen, two thousand and seven

Now twenty five, seventeen and Bonds stay strong with my brethren

Six tapes or so, then a thirty-minute record, exceptional

At twelve, indulge in shifty plans penning flows so incredible

Brought in an often over-looked book of braggadocio

Not a rush that’s not adrenaline to meet the sixteen quota

Publish cunning uncorrupted, satisfaction is the salary

I’ll sleep with the fishes before I have a mob mentality

A decade and a half, them years came and went fast

When innocence still existed, no lectures bout a dangerous path

Before you made those lacerations to last

When you were living in the memories, not facing the past

Smart talking with a silver tongue, scribble sketches and novels

In compositions meant for math inscriptions, improbable

That i’d give in on a mission, dedicated to direction

Which I was still figuring out, still thinking with apprehension

Then ascended another obsession, first heard DOOM’s pen at play

Schemes in rhymes unseen, it must be my fate to replicate

Now run with Intermedia, bleed if you intervene with us

Talk our schtick and walk with it so y’all best be believing us