Tom Wiscombe Cold Open

Heaven sent we represent that Uncut dialectic intellect   Subverted expectations of A flagrant weird ass nigga Pure distilled purpose I don't spit bars I spit the end of fucking civilization I spit that tesseract, that dark chalet Those steel beam foundations Origami folded from straight from sheets of polished titanium If Trump's re-elected i'm unaffected I stay out here wreckin' Still brazen, Taipei 101, stackin, peep the architecture You need some shit bro ha i'll be sure to getchu Not the plug but i am the whole connection Trouble from all directions I just work my angles, bitch I work them angles If i'm in danger Like i'm tom wiscombe Hairs on the weed red and curly It's that debra messing Lightning bolts of xans and coke, We call it that manic depression Taste tested flavors of the united states of oppression Nightbody the pope don't go playing with your fucking blessings Immortal head of class, today's lesson: Get your weight up, get to flexin Struggle muscles, Stay grounded in your hustles And even if all of the sky (Of time) Is caving in on your head WE MIGHT BE WATCHING ROME FALL IN REAL TIME