I ballistically hit Cryptic, pitch switchin, Cipher snipin, ridin, ecliptic, flipped switches, master casted bent twine of lines, mental street lights, the gravel from my block, the sleep on the street nights. No rose grows in the crack corroding these roads, but right here, a slight tear, a real man still grows. I might go missing, twisted lifted gifts from whiffs of ifs, Smoke blows in drifts and gets. Inching the peak, to see what beast ends up tipping, I eat theories and spit dreams, lip ripping. Metaphors of sore wars, the streets and the cages, six on a side bet, crap I'm fuckin blazing. For the scars n bars burnt, blood earned, and give a fuck, I dialectically dismember embers, bender ignescent, I bust. I shine bright, find my light, wreathed in simplicity; not Einstein, yet find, infinite in me weaves. Go there, stare back, stack stories a mile wide, gory side, glories mine, smile fine when I'm live....CrypticMisfit, don't get it twisted.