Free Style On The Pad

I'm taking Rhyming Onto A New Level... I am always trying to improve my self so please give me tips...

I'm like a white physco,

Vital,

Reading the bible of a delightful disciple,

That claimed to of shot Satan with his sniper rifle,

And roasted him in the cooker,

He know he shudda, mixed the salt and sugar,

Using blades of the butcher,

Lining the distance until he cuts ya,

What a way to start off the day,

To be betray and appear to decay,

Started in April Ended in May,

See Aguero bit off his arm and Hannibal had a buffet,

Amazing he uses everything but the razor blade,

Delaying the parade of sharp glass in the way,

But its all a big part of his game,

The gage strings that all look the same,

There all different in their own little method,

Not used as a weapon but it could be expected,

With certain reckless items that got collected,

In the the place that's rejected from the selected,

In the safe race that's unprotected,

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New start, I'm still smart, Still gotta broken heart,

But it isn't, It's still running active,

Not antiquated by a dart,  Like Phil Taylor over reacting to the chart,

Big part to restart, And my brain is still pretty crazy,

Yeah! I'm lazy, Back to bed still isn't a good enough place to send me,

Still not reached 3rd base, Ill be put in a sleeping bag with a pillow case,

And still i'll make some space,

HAHA, I'm still taped to the bed, Got strapped back and trying to get out,

I'm f*****g mad in the head,