| Hurled from the sky like a discus
|
| a god has fallen from Olympus
|
| dethroned from high, thrown from the sky
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| why? |
| He shall live alone till he die
|
| he forged him a sign
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| endorsing his crime
|
| sovereign rhyme
|
| enforcing the laws of the lords of the shrine
|
| born with a spine
|
| formed from the remnants of Optimus Prime
|
| In the darkness words formed in his mind
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| blind, double edged swords that will rhyme
|
| so a nigga got resourceful with his time
|
| the forces of kind, life forms in his kind
|
| Servants in the vine for the merchant of rhyme
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| sovereign rhyme
|
| Urban and fly
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| he spits for the people for the Government sly
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| Army for army
|
| cloaked in Armani
|
| we return to the mountains
|
| the place where they found him
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| disgraceful surroundings
|
| the racists that bound him
|
| erase, and replace in they place a new Zion
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| the rod that’ll strike
|
| make way for the god on the mic
|
| his sword’s full of light
|
| epidermis illuminate the fog in the night
|
| god on the mic
|
| love on the mic
|
| pause for the strike
|
| like jaws on the mic
|
| Fell to the earth
|
| hell was his birth
|
| remembering, trembling
|
| the dawn of the Nepheline
|
| Seraphim, beware of him
|
| spawn of the Cherubim
|
| serpentine…
|
| and man came at the perfect time
|
| it’s the perfect crime
|
| god on the mic got the perfect lines
|
| fruits on a tree
|
| now we squeeze apples to make juice and gin
|
| god on the mic his booth is a gym
|
| where he work it out and the truth is in him
|
| and Tupac got 6 bullets in
|
| so the streets could get a new bulletin
|
| mutants from high
|
| lieutenant I
|
| what ‘em motherfuckers wouldn’t do for ma fly
|
| the truth is a lie
|
| in the booth there’s a spy
|
| these bullets fly before the nuke in the sky bullet proof till I die
|
| poof! |
| Roof to the sky
|
| a' usubi la hi bloody Jew till I die
|
| parachute’s full of wind
|
| Para troops follow him
|
| yes there’s nothing they wouldn’t do for their king
|
| songs that they sing
|
| crew full of gin
|
| youthful within hope they don’t pull a pin
|
| we ride on the cosmos
|
| almost
|
| god’s ghost
|
| god on the mic |