stream of consciousness: drug rush

i write with some old hands, the rhymes roam like nomads, wandering like lost tribes my minds wait for no man / i spit freeze like frost's bite, cold words for these forced ripe mc's who blow smoke and then choke like exhaust pipes / i'll toss mics like they be raw, salads on a frisbee, spinnin' broken records, break em ballads til they dizzy / busy with some 80 proof fizzy in my veins, call an izzy get the four-C score phillies lit the brain, / disappear in the purple haze pierce an eardrum with turns of phrase, pistol whip-em twists'll flip em off the vinyl til they dazed / still amazed at my brazenness, going crazed like some ancient shit, blood, sweat and swears, mix the colours, i'm paintin' wit /