You get split in fucking half
The Ikon the Hologram wrath
But I am the center inside the placenta of math
You clash with cyanide gas and die fast
Rythmical equivalent of solids, liquids and gas
We smash your science, with the power of Lord Titus
But I am the virus inside of the iris of Cyrus
Upon papyrus
I kill snipers and body vipers
And strangle you with the organs of rioters who try to fight us
Call me your highness
And sip the blood from the phoenix
Who's guilty like the Jews in the crucifixion of Jesus
Murder the heathens
And perish in a pit of cobras
Word is bond, my rhymes form into a swarm of locusts
Provoke us
And face the Zodiac killers
Five Samurai, do or die, fire spitters
Heavy hitters, from the lands of Sudan
Killadel Shambala Ikon the Hologram
What?

[Virtuoso]
All religions fear ?Miguel?
My strikes are fatal, to your style
That's infantile like prenatal
Your mic's a child
That's getting fucked by a wild pedophile