Greydon Square
Jupiter Gas
[Intro]:
Yeah
Type 4
Yo
Yeah
Yeah

[Verse 1: Greydon Square]
Little gray men say his flow awesome
Try to keep up if you wanna get lost
The fundamental forces are giving me a choice to comply or not
I got fifth world problems
Outta' here with the haste
Thousand years here without a peer in the space
Got 'em in a veer without a fear in the face
Where all I have is ears and a weird sense of taste
…Jupiter gas
Prison planet
You wanna get stabbed?
Lethal information in еvery sequel
I may not bе the GOAT but I'm one of it's calves
Listen up
It’s a bluff
[Fitted tough][?]
Sick enough
Rigid luck
Vivid lust
Been amok
In a bus
Ten of us
Then a bust
Might as well hit ‘em
They play atom? Might as well split ‘em
They can’t fathom? Mind won’t let ‘em
They spray webbin'? I’mma throw venom
Minutes before
Enemies pour
In through the suffering misery doors
Abrupt and visibly coarse
Stuck with the cynic’s remorse
And thus
…War
Knowing the injury’s forged
Memories tend to be gore
Members have sent to be warned
Only ones [?] for the simile (Yup)

Living in the City on the Type of Forever on the west side of town where I’m liking the weather
Type 4 rhymelord eyesore that’ll take two timelines and then tie ‘em together
Blue light beam—violent 'n stellar
New life stream—wider the better
Moonside with the few with the crew ridin’
You lie with the fools in a crevice

[Sample]
It’s insane!
Sometimes the only sane response to an insane world is insanity

[Verse 2: Sai Phi]
Earthling
Burst in with a purpose interpreted to occur with the hurting
Somebody better get him a new life and the blue light for the [?] with this [?]
Under the floor there should be [stored][?] a more distorted [?] in the morning
Your dimension to another realm with immortals
Sent in the backpack in the back is a map that impact half of it after the fact
That I lost the other half traveling back from the past, a pity
Trying to get back to the city (Type 4)
Hoping the feeling to get this open ability hitting the moment humility had me showing a picked apart packed poem villainy
Sticking it far in the back, I’m hoping you feeling me