| Session one; |
| patient: C. Smith
|
| August 8th, 12:30 am
|
| It is clear in the present gospels which we now have
|
| That claims to be the Son of Man, the Son of God, the Messiah
|
| But notice all these different titles
|
| 33 and a 3rd he be the living word
|
| One verse live longer then the Phoenix bird
|
| Except Barrack is half white, the Anti-Christ
|
| Was he white or Jeremiah Wright?
|
| Last night was a FEMA strike
|
| Insomnia hold my nina tight
|
| My DNA be a Israelite
|
| Abraham, Isaac or Jacob
|
| I wake up inside the Virgin Mary
|
| It’s Melchizedek inside a belly
|
| Black meek alone Machiavelli
|
| Ready by all means necessary
|
| It’s now deli in the sanctuary
|
| Had to throw away my BlackBerry
|
| Being followed by the military
|
| For everyday I revolutionary
|
| False prophets the time’s over
|
| Before the God’s son signed Jehovah
|
| We was the controllers of this rap culture
|
| My Last Supper is at the Passover
|
| Judas make me keep the gat closer
|
| And the UFO’s Testarossa
|
| I’m coast-to-coaster
|
| This ain’t ya war Buffalo Soldier
|
| We can build the Moon planets over
|
| Or we can take it out the holsters
|
| However y’all wanna do it?
|
| Light a bush of that medical kush
|
| Push record on that protool board
|
| This is history books
|
| They overlook not knowing I’m ill as Sam Cooke
|
| They complain if it ain’t the same Autotune hooks
|
| Passports and Visa’s, airports must report to FEMA
|
| Back to Paris on them one-seaters
|
| A sixteen is worth Mona Lisa
|
| I turn a jail cell to ya Sheba’s
|
| Gon' have a seizure like Julius Caesar
|
| My hat tilted for the scale of Libra
|
| Eric B & Rakim 'Follow the Leader'
|
| Since I was a 9 mm and I ain’t gotta be famous either
|
| And my ether still oil reigns'
|
| Brothers I love they done turned to haters
|
| They all Judas so I gave them hangers
|
| You Hindus they don’t want the angers
|
| I’m in PA and its shoot the rangers
|
| Coffee shop wit the newest Hagers
|
| It’s Star Wars without Ronald Reagan
|
| And I’m a legend rap Larry Davis
|
| Shooting at anything that’s pagan
|
| Stare, echo’s no Kevin Beacon
|
| You see ghettos when you first awaken
|
| Dead souls, no education
|
| Apocalypse Now revelation
|
| Off that kush that was medication
|
| I see my friends turned two-faced
|
| We’re on tracks like off to pay me
|
| Put some more bass in
|
| Watch me kill it like Kel Bassey
|
| Your label calling it for Dick Tracey
|
| You spit crazy like it’s off safety
|
| Permanently so you wanna ranch me
|
| You blasphemous all you gotta face me |