Lyrics Napoléon - Principles of Geometry, Vast Aire

Napoléon

Female 1: What does that mean
Male: I think we’ve just been marked for something
Female 2: Let me guess what it is
Female 1: He’s the one they want.
Why don’t we give them to them?
Well don’t give me that civilized look
Male: He came in here for help.
He’s gonna get all the help we can give him
Lazarus!
I smack MCs
When they try to post in my hood
I do this often because I guess it makes me feel good
Like Halle Berry
When Billy Bob popped her cherry
Life is beautiful
But at times it gets scary
And it’s hard to fight
Monsters at large at night
I am a god who protects
Synagogues
A temple is
The body the mind
Is the church
I’m holding adversity until my arms hurt
I’ll pick up all the pieces
You left such a mess
I’m Mr. Fantastic
You make my arms stretch
Just call me atlas because
I’ll lift all your pain
Until my back my neck
Then my shoulders strain
I do this all on purpose
I don’t need excuses
I squeeze the fruit of love
And you are the juices
And war there is no win
Everybody loses
You’ve got Lucifer in your ear
But you’ve the one who chooses
In this game of life
You better have some deuces
I heard that ace was cool
But over here he’s useless
I’ll pick up all the pieces
You left such a mess
I’m Mr. Fantastic
You make my arms stretch
I’ll let you see the maker
If you want to
The first step’s a doozy
That’s usual
The grass is green the sky is blue
This is critical
A purple cloud, sunset
Check the visual
As I arise as fire
In my eyes the darkness
Is all gone
The light
I can’t describe the air
Evaporates I start
To gravitate my bones
Start to shake as flesh
Regenerates
I come from the earth’s womb
I don’t need a tomb
All dogs go to heaven
If they lick my wounds
In nirvana there room for flowers to bloom
In hell there’s a mouth for souls to consume
Lazarus!
I’ll pick up all the pieces
You left such a mess
I’m Mr. Fantastic
You make my arms stretch