Rushy... Rushy... Rush!

I really mean what I scribble, aint no kiddin in this script

Pen so vicious it got teeth—bite the paper, leave it slit!

Talk to bosses? Late again? Dam, u clocked out

Fire y’all? Nah—incinerate, turn ur spot to a lockhouse!

Spit spiteful, ink dont wash out—it haunts ya

Back in cycle like a spin-dry, now ur chain get laundered…

I dont talk, I astral-project, eyes glazed like donuts

3 of me? Trinity fail—still couldn’t produce a pro flux

Why u think u holdin Rush? Bold like that last Pepsi

This aint ring-around-the-rosie—grave dug, now u grass-zombie

This spite in my pen, it dont wash out, it stay in the thread

I dont wanna talk, Im jus spaced in my head (Spaced out)

The ink dont lie...

They jus aint readin it right...

Spaced out...

I pen-stab the paper, leave a permanent incision

This aint calligraphy, this a post-mortem revision, I mean this sht

They call me Rushy, but Im never in a rush, see

Im off-planet, eatin moon rocks fo lunch, G

Y'all late fo ur own funeral, talkin bout the event

Im the reason they need a new carpet, the stain's permanent

They try to rinse me, but the hate dont bleed out

It jus cycles the drain, then I bring the drought, watch me re-up the clout

Im space-walkin, star-gawkin, laws-breakin

With 3 of me, its a ménage à moi, a holy trinity mistaken

Why u tryna hold atmosphere? u cant get a grip

This aint ring-around-the-rosie, this a nuclear missile flip

So anti, I should jus log off the planet

My socials are jus ghosts, I aint even on it, I haunt it

Im a different species in a league they invented fo me

Box me in? I stick-bop-n-weave, its artistry

Goofy's talkin? Sound like wah-wah-wah-wah, Charlie Brown teacher

Unqualified to judge the feature-length creepshow, Im the main creature

I got too much on the plate to let a T-bone take me out

I serve em POV filet, see the world thru my eyes, thats the seed, no doubt

I s-s-s-slide, Jackson moonwalkin on a razor

They claim Jordan Rules when Im in my bag—I leave em in a Jordan laser!

No audibles, I call the play from the grave, green like Im bleedin out pools

Right in his泳池 (yòuchí - pool), leavin clues fo the fools

Im Professor X from the drop-top, bendin mental

Dent ur dental, make u recant every sentence, u sentimental pencil-pusher

My pen aint never been been, its a newborn viper

It aint bleedin ink on the pad, thats its 1st meal, Im the hype-typer

Y'all Ricky Bobby with the trainin wheels on, poor liars

All bias, runnin on flat tires, thinkin u sirens

I cut ties, they crossed me, that was a crucifixion

Lucifer had a thousand chances, made a useless selection

How useless u feel? Like a future pick on a fantasy trade

A forgotten sim card in a phone that I jus upgraded

Load the Russian Roulette revolver, its bout to get rocky fo jokers

Hope to trust em, but its always too late when the smoke clears n the truth pokes thru

Every statement u makin is falsified, pre-approved, sanitized

You're forced to hide cus ur foundations a lie

What's conscious if u woke but u still in the coma?

A lot of y'all's reality is a cheap-asss panorama

Then u bring that life to me, expectin agreeance?

Im disagreein with the premise of ur whole existence, u a mere sequence

Im simply sayin, when Im sane, I go Super Saiyan God

I supersede the whole scene, Im the root, u the sod

The silent mystique is a dangerous animal, nocturnal

Ink bleeds like blood from a arterial word-wound, the pens internal

Its a scalpel, dissectin the silence, slicin thru the fake pious

Used to try n decipher the which from the which, now I jus let the silence get riotous

You'll see nothin exist if u sit where I sit

Its jus vast, empty space n this pen, n this...

spite in my pen, it dont wash out, it stay in the thread

I dont wanna talk, Im jus spaced in my head (Spaced out)

They claim its rules, I leave pools where the trust went (Drip-drip-drip!)

Call shots from the chair, Im Professor X (Brrr!)

Bend they mental, now they scared of what they mentals said…

I really mean what I say, aint no pretendin this

Pen got a pulse, write in blood, I aint pencilin

Rushy dont rap… he haunt lines…

Pen so sharp, it surgeon-time…

Rushy... Rushy... Rush!