| We lettin' you know
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| You feelin' Outerspace nigga lick two shots
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| Bow down to something far — greater
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| I’m word perfect, write my words in a worse curse
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| And emerge versus, tear this verse in the first person
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| Disturbed surgeon operatin' for those hurtin'
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| It’s most certain that shows jerkin' when my flows workin'
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| Most poetical, watch the game from a gold pedestal
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| Half man/raging bull when I stand next to you
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| Me & Plan identical, make it unbearable
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| The reason that you bleedin', the reason for needin' medical
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| No need to even threaten you cause talk is cheap
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| I breed my seeds ready to assault the street
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| Proceed to breathe heavy, get upon this heat
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| Let my lines accumulate inside a vault for weeks
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| My flows are sickenin' - I should be washed & bleached
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| I’m down to get it in you feelin' froggishly
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| Surround you spitter sins wit' a squad that’s deep
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| The ground I fit 'em in, let the applaudin' teach
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| You feelin' Outerspace nigga lick two shots
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| We lettin' you know
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| You feelin' Outerspace nigga lick two shots
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| Bow down to something far — greater
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| It’s me, the most evil verbalist alive
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| I’m sicker than one foot in the grave ready to die
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| My brain move, 'bout the same speed a train move
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| Disturbed world rap, pain moves you lame crews
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| Rage of angels, no wings crack halos
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| Smack devil’s on payroll when heaven’s gates close
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| I change clothes before rockin' a stained robe
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| My names gold, voice platinum my frame glow
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| My shoebox got 2Pac and Pun in it
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| I rock «Hail Mary» spittin' 'til the nuns get it
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| I done did it, after twenty five years
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| Five beers I’m buzzed, you sittin' wit' dry tears
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| The atmosphere’s filled wit' debris & dust
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| My wordplay is nothing you emcees should trust
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| Bust back syllable gats blast triumphant
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| Fuck that, we killin' you cats black we run shit
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| Yeah, you know, it’s Esoteric
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| 7L on the fader
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| Bow down to something far greater
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| Let me find out these little cats want it wit' Es
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| I’m at ya mum’s rest, stompin' ya chest homie I’m serious
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| I see cats tryna get their cake up
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| Make a nickel, and prepare to be a dyme like make-up
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| The gladiator hit the ring for spars
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| You wanna rock, bring guitars
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| I can’t watch the news, cause when I sneeze yo, I think it’s SARS
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| To the point I can’t think no bars, I just break ya balls
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| To the cats that cling to bars, to the ones in the mirror lip-syncin' Nas
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| I be shrinkin' stars, once I’m done wit' ya face
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| You gonna have to find a girl who got a thing for scars
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| I be liftin' motherfuckers out their mink & cars
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| Then I lounge in bed, g’ahead count my bread
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| My Boston accent will pronounce you dead
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| Flip a rhyme like an ounce, make sure mouths is fed
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| Bow down to something far greater *2X* |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Far Greater , by - Outerspace. Song from the album Blood And Ashes, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп