I wanted to write a quick 32 and try to experiment with different flow and delivery. The rhymes weren't super important to me, hence the couplets. It's also in one take, hence my questionable breath control and diction.

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Two metal fingers, two cement dominos
The story gets bigger, then a lead overdose
Overseas overly overseen from shaded lenses
Sick minds infect bodies behind grated fences

Who knew one plane could leave a skyscraper totaled
Leaving holes bigger than the crater in Chernobyl
And a fire could knock another one out, no contest
A lit cigarette could probably flatten the complex

They bought it, hook line and sinking to the ground
Sitting in the cloud while listening to sounds
Of screams nearly as loud as the register
Ringing up profits of the lobbyists and senators

From a throne so high there's such a clear vantage
Peering over, peers appear to be ants, and it's
Fate to be slaves to locusts, smoke and mirrors
Grabbing onto viruses to holding them dearer

Oh, and it's funny how there's still deception
When debris jumped Six and hit Building Seven
The weapon was a bomb, it was never from Iraq
The plane bent a couple rungs but it never was enough

For what it knocked to hop a block, that's the kind of entropy
That's more conspicuous than the bullet hitting Kennedy
Call it Chaos Theory, but there's better a chance
Of matter quantum tunnelling your head in the sand

See for yourself before you start to slam me
Demolitions usually aren't that clean
So what the fuck makes you trust official informants?
Dude, take a fucking look at the floor plan

And no, I don't really give a shit who did it
I'm just trying to comprehend why people fell for the gimmick
If nine over eleven was what they said it was
There'd be two remaining, just too bad they set it up