Hooked on Phonetics

It's not all in the hype, see?
You still have to set your roots.
Mine just happen to be hyphy.

I'm split-even like coduceus
fueled by semi-synthetic
ergot infested magic rye.

I'm a nice guy who likes long walks on the beach,
my molly actually sass, but still crystalline, and
using my spare time to visit worlds- dimethyl triptyline

lyrics are a pattern. Whose
divination's just a gift to me.
"They" tell me what to write,
point at you, and scream
"REPEAT AFTER ME!"

A little dab will do ya.
"How bout a line or two sir?"
"Dude, what about your health?
Do think that that's conducive?"
No, I think it's magic. It's talking to god.
I love it more than anything and it's killing me.
Isn't that odd?