| When you enter my house of worship
|
| Your crucifix, I doubt it
|
| Only Christianity I recognize is my man Khrist’s album
|
| Flip the pages of Isis Papers killin' racist
|
| Federal agents, roll up rockin' masks with they techs
|
| Computer matrix classified access throw on ya gas mask
|
| The devil’s bash flash reflected off the lights gats blast
|
| (Hopes to those) Leavin' ya inner deep with ya chromosomes blown
|
| Roamin' the catacombs of the phantom zone
|
| (Ask yourself) How can we obtain true equality
|
| When the value and price of life is less than technology?
|
| They tryna call this a civil-ization
|
| But what the hell is civilized about buildin' weapons and space stations
|
| Cease and just call it what it really is
|
| A technologically barbaric society like the Ancient Romans
|
| I see the writing on the wall
|
| The devil killed the righteous man
|
| But now the rest’ll take the savage beast to war
|
| Remember rules of ancient, crusty like basements, study like spaceships
|
| Ain’t no probin' wid metal processors temperature placements
|
| Teeth of a dragon, face of a lion
|
| Children of Zion half bleeds who defacate iron
|
| Burnt in flames we firin' robots and the bible insane
|
| Unknown intelligence son to the sun we’re astral residents
|
| Bigger than rap let’s make this album decadence
|
| Turn mass to energy, medicine and telepathy, conspiracy, Tel Aviv
|
| Buildin' the food pyramid type heart with the left plate
|
| Confess stay, raw like stones on my breastplate
|
| It seems to me they all had hands in Nazi thievery
|
| It’s ninety six brothers use brains at low frequencies
|
| One time for sharp kids, killers do biblical
|
| There’s two ghettos, one in the mind, the other physical
|
| Break through, I be on the search for other niggas
|
| Race haters and prostitutes just as sinful as jail niggas
|
| I step to Fat Beats, it’s filled with ghetto philosophers
|
| Beat lovers and derelicts plus urban stenographers
|
| The way they take my words to their throat and dictate 'em
|
| To they man, like they was in the lab and just made 'em
|
| From scratch but we can catch you on that parade
|
| Cause in the end you sound like wax
|
| That ten other emcees made
|
| I’m throwin' shade to the willow
|
| When you weepin' on the pillow
|
| We’ll know when it’s time for finger prints
|
| To be rubbed out with Brillo skills
|
| Go through changes includin' cats that rearrange 'em
|
| So if you hold my skills for ransom better kill 'em fore I claim 'em
|
| I don’t see Jehovah tellin' you that it ain’t over
|
| My carb take the eye of the storm, through this soldier
|
| Sworn to defend the faith rap monk in New Tibet
|
| If you want the holy doctrine tell 'em we this crew to get
|
| Now who’s next, uh, it’s Non-Phixion, Non-Phixion |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Hot 97.1 Freestyle , by - Non Phixion. Song from the album The Green CD, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп