Lyrical Lord

As hard as it seem, My verse reign supreme, Myself and I, am the illest, My flow is the sickest, I spit hot-lava fire, Never think of retire, Hell-bent to succeed, Haters call me demon seed, But their opinions don't matter, I'm too far up the ladder, Like french-fries I fry 'em, Sixteen bars I eat 'em, Fools run from this storm, I'm a lyrical god in human form, After me there'll be none, 'Cause I kill 'em one-by-one!