| On a man-made lake there’s a sheet of thin ice
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| Where unskilled skaters couldn’t figure-8 twice
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| That’s sixteen uncut direct from the cult
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| Head on assault, the result death by the bolt
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| In a vault, they spoke about the average loss per mission
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| That was seen by a king in a prophetic vision
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| Like a plane crash from a bomb blast
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| Special broadcast, slot time with comcast
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| They kept the jury quiet and now the riot will form
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| While satanic man now hang in his dorm
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| I swing on you fake radio personalities
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| Who boost ya ratings with hypes behind casualties
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| And fire shots with low-pressure water gun play
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| But instantly slap ya five like it’s Palm Sunday
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| I fashion the first tool, from the elements the Earth use
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| And built it to a complex network of communications
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| You’re up against a hopeless situation
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| I screen every vehicle from enemy observation
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| Swarming unpredictably, we spread terror
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| Increase the fog significantly, change the era
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| Check my wind pattern, it’s heading west
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| Success is freedom but failure can mean death
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| Humans sweat and aim shovels, dig up the debris and rubble
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| Permanent damage caused by the W
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| Now who cowardlessly urge you to merge through
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| And think the workers will serve you?
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| The sonic marvel who just dropped the next novel
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| Worldwide, rapidly marred in marble
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| It’s a countless amount of emcees I saved
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| And them same niggas wanna squander those gifts I gave
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| Scratch underneath the surface, where does your purpose lie?
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| It seems our will is worthless, like we’re pawns beneath the sky
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| Fate’s erased by reason and passion’s just a whim
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| Feel empty so I breath in, keep myself from giving in
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| Love and hatred, moments most sacred
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| Both species, they lay naked in the tombs of oasis
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| Think back on niggas I ate with, spent the day with
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| Guns we played with, niggas I relate with
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| We broke bread, I heard through a vine niggas worked for the Fed
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| Sent out secretly to take my head
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| I laid back and meditate to the words they said
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| Skipped town for a month and grew some dreads
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| Had a friend tell my family I was dead
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| Returned at the last fall of the autumn leaf
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| Operate the plan accordingly in case the Feds are recording me
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| Sign all documents using forgery cause just a mere thought of me
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| I’m like Solomon, spoke bluntly, told the world, «I'm black and comely»
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| Howls from the grave haunt me, the smell of death’s upon me
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| I dwell in the Hills like Gandhi
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| Been in the presence of mad peasants and old kings
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| Who sold everything on a quest for God’s Divine
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| Slept in caves to get a clear mind
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| Who prayed three times, when the Moon lit and when the Sun rise
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| I met dwellers in the desert, talked to shepherds
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| Been in the mouth of many leopards
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| Felt the death kiss of Satan’s mistress
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| Walk through vacant districts, before religions I studied pagan scriptures
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| True philosophers and physicians on the cure missions
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| Who harden their hearts toward the weak, sick and inflicted
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| Candles lit, gamble with a bitch
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| Who made me love her when I touch her
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| Soft paws hide claws
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| Bees with sweet honey in they mouth
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| Have bitter stingers at they tail
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| Walk through the chambers of death, take a hole onto Hell
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| Embracing her was like embracing the third rail
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| Scratch underneath the surface, where does your purpose lie?
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| It seems our will is worthless, like we’re pawns beneath the sky
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| Fate’s erased by reason and passion’s just a whim
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| Feel empty so I breath in, keep myself from giving in
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| Scratch underneath the surface |