| I see you modified your gangsta after seeing me walk
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| You changed your tone after hearing me talk
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| Extended your hand and steal my aura
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| You know the god don’t shake on shit
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| But food, clothing and a glass of water
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| Though we make love to Jezebels we prey on virgins
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| We move like Yahuwa in black Excursions
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| Blood the color of grape wine
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| Skin tone the color of bronze
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| I rose from the grave with 9's
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| And if tears were dollars I’d feed the children
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| Replace the White House with a project building
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| I’d stand on top of it, signal in a rocket ship
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| Hold my dick like I lock down the continent
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| I’m magnetic, I attract metal L-shaped objects
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| With hell parallel niggas hit decks
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| Yo my hand like fire in hell after a shooting
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| So nigga if you know like I know, keep it moving
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| (Hook)
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| Cause I can stand still and watch the world blow up
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| Cause I can stand still and watch the world blow up
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| Cause I can stand still and watch the world blow up
|
| Cause I can stand still and watch the world blow up
|
| Cause I can stand still and watch the world blow up
|
| Fuck that museum heist decode alarms, blowing my palms
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| Turn the knob slowly hear the click, then we open it
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| Flee with the rarest canvas, called the Della Strada
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| A fifteenth-century painting of DaVinci’s Belladona
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| Tie up the Pope, my man’s in the Helicopter
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| Next to the Russian Pilot blowing marijuana
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| I smell the ganja showing the picture of the black Madonna
|
| Flying over seas full of squids and arowanas
|
| Stole the Mona Lisa in Rome with phony Visas
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| Disguised as a tourist taking flicks at the Pisa
|
| My cards and my passport reads Dr. Philip L. Glascov
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| At the airport where the FBI waiting with their taskforce
|
| Cleared customs, pulled the mustache off
|
| A shootout is my last resort
|
| Now we back in the air to the Metropolis, Project shit
|
| Hellhole is bottomless
|
| The beast will crawl out of it
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| Apocalypse, Communist
|
| Name remains anonymous
|
| Behold the Pale Rhinoceros
|
| It’s obvious, don’t even shoot it if the shot’s a risk
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| They say I’m too Hitchcockian
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| When I spit about the projects we in
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| I’m Jesus resurrected in the drop-top BM
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| I’m Larry King Live from the hood
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| Showing scene by scene of murder
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| So what’s good?
|
| (Hook)
|
| Wish I could stand still and watch the world blow up
|
| But then I wouldn’t get to see the seeds grow up
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| Wish I could stand still and watch the world blow up
|
| I’d be the sign that the gangs of the world throw up
|
| Motherfuckers tell me that I live in the last days
|
| Stupid fucks, you think AIDS is the last plague?
|
| See man made God in his own image
|
| Culture, language and his own limits
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| Even his own spirit
|
| So he could fool other men
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| Into believing in his own gimmicks
|
| Stomp the Atlantic, pivot the planet
|
| While niggas turn their cheek to a Catholic faggot
|
| My thological gangsta
|
| Crying if you spit it hard
|
| You get your bitch gang-raped by Minotaurs
|
| No facade or exaggeration
|
| We were born to rule the world after Revelations
|
| You could call it God’s wrath or Allah’s math
|
| Like in Texas Chainsaw Massacre slash
|
| Bars of death when I spit 'em out
|
| Concentration camp gold ripped out of a Jew’s mouth
|
| Melted into Swiss Banks
|
| That’s how the world works
|
| We like the Mamluks to America’s Ottoman Turks
|
| Fill the country 'til the bottom will burst
|
| Nazi pope, sniper scope shot him in Church
|
| Warrior castle, slavery surviving niggas
|
| Harlem North Philly nobody live-er niggas
|
| Bittersweet Apocalypse I laugh at the end
|
| Gun in your face, that’ll be your moment to sin
|
| Cause when your world is over, mine just begins
|
| (Hook) |