| «I have heard the young men of Judah. |
| They acknowledge me king!
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| As for you…
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| You thought my father’s yoke was heavy? |
| Wait until you feel mine!
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| You thought my father’s taxes too high? |
| Mine will crush you!
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| How dare you speak out against your lawful king?
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| My father chastised you with whips. |
| I shall use scorpions!
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| I am your king!»
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| I stay on top of the mountain, I was a born rapper
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| The house of the Holy Spirit, another long chapter
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| Untouched glory of God, a strong factor
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| The nine laws were bound together from psalms after
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| The Smith & Wesson rubber grip made my palm blacker
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| You not a MC pussy, you a reformed actor
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| Your whole fam is fucked up in Al-Anon matter
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| The Chemical Wedding of Christ where the gods gather
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| The weapon of the dead gods was a thorn dagger
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| Every verse, every Sura in the Quran has a
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| -nother scripture, another picture was drawn blacker
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| Arabize Kurdish legacy, the storm catcher
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| The fuckin' MC you don’t wanna perform after
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| The seventh son of the seventh son of his law passer
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| Mercy prevail over wrath from Imam ladder
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| 16 bars similar to God’s rapture
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| They tried to stop me at every level and stress me and send me devils
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| I press 'em like Chevy pedals and shred 'em like heavy metal
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| We’ll never settle for a minute of the spotlight
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| Your raps is a gat spittin', it ain’t shot right
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| I caught some spittin' shots to your brain cell
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| So you and George Zimmerman can rot in the same Hell
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| Capital Q stand at odds with the metal ready
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| And level the playin' field with the God of the Serengeti
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| Keep your enemies close enough to never fall
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| A victim of a death plot, keep afar and get shot
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| Decapitated heads drop and fall down a flight of stairs
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| Like Apocalypto sacrifices, I rap to stack prices
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| Like Apple Mac devices, it’s real brutal
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| And got that rock steady seal of approval
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| I pray to the heavens, he pray to the east
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| And on the Sunday San Gennaro we parade to the feast, minchia! |