::The Elite::
::Infinite Truth::
" Im the sickest emcee with my partner while we teamin'
Leavin those opposin us left with face full of semen'
Im relievin' yall like pitchers in the 9th before I finish
VA and IT...the first to leave you diminished...
...a’yo, we on some blacktop chivalry shit..
so you’ll know we’re in town,
when the streets are decorated w/ circus sideshow freaks
& calypso’s carnival’s clowns.
we’re the moonshine’s molotov.
we stay tweaking the twilight.
we’re the hieroglyphic holocaust.
science drops deep in a skydive.
we’re the gunpowder goliaths, shrouded messiahs.
we sabotage concepts w/ that chatterbox complex.
cuz see, my jigsaw pen spirals to stained paper
a suckerpunch symphony of theories thorned by a caged bird.
fairydust flakes trace my every word, it’s disturbing.
sick shit that makes a "profit" like mother mary the virgin.
y’all stay dizzy, burnt thick w/ dishonor.
cuz my yellow brick eloquence just leads your stepping to friction & drama...
::Vern Acular::
...we're the metal dense armor metally the mentors of doom
the lack of concentration taking your attention in school
are mimics are fools and yes we have intentions to rule
we're the monster in the closet that'll live in your room
he's infinite truth, im VA a replay to a bad dream
our tag team is the virus with no cure or a vaccine
the intensity in a movie that leads you into the last scene
a feeling as vivid as your first toungue kiss in the back seat
the track meet where that one runner gets exhausted and falls
the balance that enables us to start to walk and not crawl
feelings that a mother gets when her child's lost in the mall
we're the irratation in your throat before it swallows the halls
a probable cause, the pestilent price paid for abortion
the rate of extortion plagirized until a neighbor reports it
the fate of an orphan and stench trapped in a blanket of corpses
as you can see The Elite suceeds through many vagrant assortments
remaining important, the portal and door to a dormant madness
soon to be unleashed through any street, bleak in the form of acid
orchid placid, the blood that drips from the tip of an ogres hatchet
two purple hearts whose verse scar anbody who tours our matches