my reeder no be so, i never turn G. R. Martin,
my reeder no be so, i won't be long like the next World Cup,
i'm just grafting, working on this book like it's surgery,
i'm in med schoool,
so let me write you a prescription,
-of my novel, it's so soothing, one page and you won't need medicine,
this is a matter of life, so i'm not joking,
my tenth novel is loading.

like the day of rapture, i am coming,
oh ye sinners, will you be ready?
when ST drops like a virus and causes a goddamn pandemic.

there is a famine, people are starving,
because they can't get enough of me.
where is the vaccine? people are dying,
i've gone too viral to handle.

the name is Martins, T.J. f*cking Martins.
and sooon,
i'd become a literary pop-star.

didn't write for two years to give you a headstart,
but i move Godspeed and made you look slow like a go-kart,
if you look me on Wikipedia,
you won't see me, cause i'm an encyclopedia-
brimming with genius and intrigue, that you can't summarise and fit into a website page, i'm 4-dimensional-
the concept of space and time can't unravel how?

my head is a futuristic computer,
whirring twice as fast, while yours is a glass tumbler-
one plot and you spill it all right over the bar.
my hands weave like i'm a suicide bomber,
intricately complex, blow your mind now,
i'm the future you can't keep up with, you rusted car.

i'm a possessed madman when i'm writing,
finishing books faster than you finish dreaming-
of a fantasy where you're as good as me,
i think it's best you stop fooling-
around and wake up to reality, it's dangerous to keep sleepwalking,
on the express road, this is the big leagues i'm not bragging.

my reeder no be so, i never turn G.R. Martin,
and your babe is in my DM's, smothering me with fan love like you've never seen.

the name is Martins, T.J. f*cking Martins,
and sooon, i'd become a literary pop-star.
the name is Martins, T.J f*cking Martins,
but for noow, i'm just a jaded poet.