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You know how some cats want you to think they're holy but they're hellish |
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They relish every opportunity they have to embellish |
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The facts, say one thing in your face another behind your back |
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But I ain't goin out like that |
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I'm leavin no stone unturned as I burn down your village and maraud |
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In vain you invoked the name of God but your theory was flawed |
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I don't wanna hear it Jezebel spirit you tried enticin me |
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But the Christ in me rises up with wrath righteously |
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You tried to turn the Page and felt the rage |
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Warfare is waged as we engaged, feel the fury uncaged |
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You can't lobotomize me or sodomize me |
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Get me drunk off your hundred and eighty-proof ninety-percent truth |
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Ten percent lie you were sent by |
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Lord of the flies, but angel of light is the alias he went by |
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It's plain and simple I'm drivin the money changers from the temple |
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And all the sheisty moves that I've seen them pull |
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God is comin back wroth with the slack sloth |
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Imagine your crew geared up in ashes and sackcloth |
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You're straight from hell, you dispel your own truth |
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Changing up like Clark Kent in a phone booth |
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But where's my real ones that do not love their lives unto death |
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I got a blade to your gut and I'm gonna make you say "Shibboleth" |
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The surface is an immaculate manicured plot |
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While the truth lies forgot under the dirt to rot |
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[Othello, Page One, Braille, Ohmega Watts] |
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Decayed truth spoken, every tooth broken |
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From out of the mouth of madness |
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Destroying your blasphemous tactics shattering your tablets |
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This is an act of correcting |
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[repeat] |
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[Braille] |
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Activate my mic with electric shockwaves |
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Wake you up from your sweet dreams |
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Many speaking filthy lies |
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Sounding intelligent but I'm not impressed or confused |
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My short fuse is lit who is this |
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Braille spittin truth to influence you to quit |
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Your day job stay off the microphone |
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If God ain't pleased with your words then leave it alone |
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[Othello] |
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Let me start off by stating while the world's fading yo I'm creating |
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Promptly grab the mic to execute my mission statement |
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Basic but basically capable of changing and rearranging the art |
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Of making music from the heart I spark |
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With Christ-inspired thoughts and pray never to be a has been |
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So intricate that in sifting it you come up with mad gems |
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The sin of men and women who pretend to have it all |
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Together lie in your face and together they will fall |
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Emcees with truth decay the worst display of halitosis |
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Wacktose intolerant I'm bothered by the most if |
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Not all the pseudo synthetic attempts to creativity this industry endorses |
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Ignorant lyricists spitting nonsense |
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Lost in space time relevance elements |
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Raped, battered and bruised, shoved to the bottom of the sea like sediment |
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Twenty thousand leagues beneath |
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Underground preserved from insulated heat designated beat |
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Downs with unique sounds on crews that represent weak so to speak |
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With leaps and bounds around the middle my pedestal |
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Splits in two unfortunate but true |
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While you lay claim to diamond-studded items during open mic abuse |
