-I -I -D -B -E -A -N -S -E -B
And they say this word
And they think they're gonna
Never
Hold that, I'm banging till
your eyes roll back
Till we awaken from that permanent nap
And if you think you wanna...
You must be mistaken
I'm taking back a art forsaken
The streets pa tiently waiting
for us to take em
With paramilitary precision
The bars lift from the god given vision
To do it different,
the gift and the curse
Shifting the verse, lifting the curse
Voices calling out in reverse
Living the verse till the last but come first
A thousand megahertz, your body jerks
The votes animate dead nerves,
the pen swerves
But in the end it serves the greater good
The haters wishing they could,
subliminally
I'm wishing
Call me your mom with the best intentions,
let's cut the comedy
You know my occupation is professionally ill I don't touch,
written in braille
An d your money guns at me
Y 'all is warm, tap water,
tasty, none faze me
For noobs, fist nicely, I'm iced tea,
can't spite me
Touch a button, new future alphabetics
In the blizzard about
to booboo on somebody
Who sliced like a knife in the
eleventh hour of night
He's built a tantrum in a fit of love,
a turntable as the world turns
Rain attempts to cleanse the city of sin
Heart broken when the bad guys win
The apron on the cannibal reads
Kiss the cook in a taste test
and the flesh so fresh
Blood is the new black,
wear black
My cemetery talk, bury you
Called up the amateur and
quick to give it up
And then it blows up
And everyone wonder
s why music sucks
Who's idea needs a new bowl?
Brainwave barely a ripple
From us you with the brilliance
A bison on beats
Got you underwears unprepared,
lumpin' your underwear from outta nowhere
Unlike conservatives,
with toilet paper countin' every square
Severe, savagely severe,
plagued by the idea
With a shovel, you're diggin' it
How I keep this spittin' out the script
Hard like the record, skip while you follow a script
Like a purple lack in the apple,
I'm born to mack
Steve
Job, the beat, play
God on the track
Genesis, sentences,
turn these niggas to miniatures
Like I came through with sentences,
couple bitches and ministers
I'm just here for the game,
no practice or scrimmages
Not the fame, just the images of some
twisted appendages
Gettin' low on some
Guinnesses while the
beat never finishes
Then it's,
where are we going father
Farther, away from the wack juice, close to
the altar
My cult, they stay with me
Gather in a circle and shine like 650
IL,
Ben's white coupe, I'm so crispy
Protected from the voodoo and
Zulu mass against me
Gently, brushing my shoulder
s through the century
Always suspicious of
the streets, I don't sleep
Spike wrist and
Sid