Lyrics Royal Hand - The Alchemist, OH No, Gangrene

Royal Hand

When the kid dies, as in to take his own life\nAnd then lay rest with his soul in the darkness\nYou know that\nYou know that\nThy soul shall enter into the mortal body\nYou know that\nAnd possess its spirit through thy bidding\nYou know that\nYou know that\nHe shall steal the fire they tried to destroy\nYou know that\nAnd gain thy strength\nYou know that\nUntil the last tutor shall see no more\nYou know that\nThrowin' a wrench\nPut you on a reserve, I sit you back down on the bench (Uh)\nSee the «Do Not Disturb» sign when I’m cashing out the rent (Out the rent)\nSealed double, I get it wrapped without the scent\nBubble-eye Benz, I’m blackin' out the tint (All that)\nThrow me the pinch, I’ll smack it out the fence\nThen I hang my jacket out to rinse\nI’m dripping, I’m swimming in a sauce container\nElectric current flowin' through me, I’m an oscillator\nPartially disabled, rusty razor to split the Garcia Vega\nSpill the guts on the marble table (Mess)\nSo many trinkets encrusted, I need a larger cable (All that)\nSo many papers in my rap sheet, it’s hard to staple (All that)\nWord for word, you’re not on my Lavelle\nI clean up nice, there’s not a spot on my lapel (Nothing)\nStill labeling price tags with product on the shelf\nDon’t walk around with a toolbox, I got it on the belt (I got it on the belt)\nSlide in any pocket, provided I’ma melt\nAfter the cards were shuffled and divided I was dealt\nA royal hand (Royal hand)\nBoiled a pollo rapper, then foil and saran\nYou a boy band, I’m sip petroleum straight from an oil can\nAre you asking me to believe that a-\nA man who has been dead three thousand years\nHas the power to transfer his soul in the body of another human being?\nI’m not asking you to believe that, captain\nYou know that\nYou know that\nYou know that\nYou know that\nYou know that\nYou know that\nYou know that (Yeah)\nYou know that\nYou know that (Let's go)\nUh, throw 'em over the cliffs (Huh)\nPush 'em over the edge (Mm)\nShove 'em into the pits (Mm)\nPull 'em into the fire\nDrown 'em down in the water\nChoke 'em until they bubble\nThis cut is more than a slaughter\nI’m crossing over the borders away\nIt’s a disorder, this order had me\nI’m tourin' in Californi', a foreign (Grr)\nRiding foreigns and flooring, yeah\nFlying past the cornea, four in the morning\nOne for the books, call the historian (Ow)\nLiving life in euphoria\nWe’ll get you niggas caught in the waves\nHeavy flooding like back in the days\nHave that haze send you back in a phase\nActing bestrays and brave with graze your grace\n'Til your back’s in a grave (Ayy)\nThat’s the recipes from earth\nEither barbeque flames or make peace with dirt (Oh)\nAnd rushed in the soil, the fresh always spoil\nYou’re not shocking me like I’m next to a Tesla coil (Zzz)\nAnd when I’m cooking, I bring the best to a boil (hmm)\nDirty grease dripped, then save the freshest oil (C'mon)\nNo retreat for when they expect trims and loyals (Uh-huh)\nI’m cut from a cloth, the king’s extra royal (Yeah, ah ah ah)\nSomething over which we have no control did happen\nThe instant that validates the\nYou’re a doctor? You’ve been quite known for this\nI don’t know how to fight the unknown\nI say we find the royal tomb then we find the answer\nI’m gonna surprise you,\nI say we do too\nA long time ago, I used to write graffiti\nAll that type of stuff\nYou know?\nYou know what I was doing?\nI was on the Internet, OK\nThe Internet is