| Good morning, top of the day
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| I oxygenate with coffee and omelette steak
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| Then I decarboxylate
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| Pull a stocking down over my face
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| Tuck that thing in the waist
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| Meet you downstairs at the gate
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| They say the brown-tailed squirrel
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| Is entitled to lessen this world
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| I find it hard to respect those words
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| Tonic subdominant dominant
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| Influence beta vocal and beat moderate
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| While still placing my voice on top of it
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| (Are you a philosopher?)
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| Yes, I think very deeply
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| In fact, alkaline hydrolysis exists
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| When you come to terms with that
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| Your blood will be tapped
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| From biosludge in a vat
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| And your world will collapse
|
| V&ires want blood
|
| And pseudo-scientists want biosludge
|
| Basic Instructions Before B.I.B.L.E. |
| Club
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| The pillars of justice
|
| Crushed to dust by a nigga with musket
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| They handcuffed him 'cause he spit with substance
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| Ask around, he ain’t nothin' to fuck with
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| Or be in love with
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| Them handcuffs is like titanium cufflings
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| Verily, verily I say unto you
|
| Microphone check 1, 2, 1, 2
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| Go 'head, claim that baggage
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| Delta Strike Force package
|
| My drones over traffic cause accidents to happen
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| You must be reading my mind
|
| He a one man machine that rhyme
|
| A baby doberman eating at your spine
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| Beginning to feed off your insides
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| If I was you I wouldn’t think twice
|
| The main concern is to preserve life
|
| If I was you? |
| Play nice, bruh, don’t be mean
|
| I cried watching what happened to behind the scenes? |
| gene?
|
| 299 days later I walked in the bodega
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| Wearing gold plated Ray-Ban Aviators
|
| Rap don’t prove you great
|
| I show you how catastrophe taste
|
| Throw battery acid in your face
|
| The Lawnmower Man with motorized hands
|
| My hydraulics crush hydrogen tanks and make a thug dance
|
| No cap, I called Lord Cyborg on the map
|
| He ain’t no hip hop cop, he got a badge for rap
|
| 308 unique angle of attack
|
| That yellow-bellied rat just shot him in the back
|
| Now you got a malfunctioning backpack
|
| In zero gravity, how the fuck you gon' get back
|
| Yo to go collect all his plaques
|
| I never thought of that
|
| But I’ma have to go with «no, thanks»
|
| I got a certified postage letter
|
| From the globalists on my dresser
|
| And I ain’t gon' never open it
|
| They want my Infinity check
|
| I signed an NDA with the Senator
|
| 14 years later we see the release
|
| Of something suspiciously similar
|
| They stole my shit
|
| Look at all them flows I spit
|
| I’m multidisciplinary, yet nothing could’a prepared me
|
| For what I experienced in the rap game summarily
|
| Verily, verily I say unto you
|
| Microphone check 1, 2, 1, 2
|
| Verily, verily I say unto you
|
| I watched it all happen from the telecom room
|
| In plain view I saw Metatron under a full moon
|
| With the Sephiroth in his crew eating energon cubes
|
| The Lord Cyborg’s blackball is atrocious
|
| The interview with Joe Rogan got zero promotion
|
| Dr. Malone had him open
|
| I was in the background coachin' him
|
| Dewey Cooper the Black Kobra and TJ was chokin' him
|
| Had him tappin' out all over the linoleum
|
| Then Don Corleone got Covid again
|
| Every day occurrences like this
|
| Are circumstantial adverses
|
| That get perverted into a burden
|
| Holographic indigenous camouflage projection
|
| A weapon system we generally use for our protection
|
| Poetry marginal margin, now that’s what I’m talkin'
|
| If I’m flyin' in a Black Hawk, that’s what I’m squawkin'
|
| 100,000 bars and runnin', keep marchin'
|
| I don’t answer the phone, I don’t care who callin'
|
| The bad boy a good talk
|
| Kamayamaya him a boss
|
| That’s him layin' in the Himalayan salt
|
| Blessed the man with heart
|
| Where beautiful things are
|
| Barefoot before God prayin' in the park
|
| Lamb shish kebab, wolf gang, murder mouth in a synagogue
|
| 50 bars, Cappadonna — Winter Warz
|
| Master Builder Bus, the group I’m a member of
|
| We came to free the hip hop prisoners
|
| And lift your spirit up
|
| 3rd eye live it up
|
| The microphone is a good listener
|
| Verily, verily I say unto you
|
| Microphone check 1, 2, 1, 2
|
| I massage my mustache with Lemon &Bergamot from a glass
|
| A thick fog develops from hot gas
|
| My Jamaican grandma gon' whoop your ass
|
| 'Cause you ate the last dumpling out the pot, dumbass
|
| Verily, verily I say unto you
|
| Microphone check 2, 0, 2, 2 |