| Lets see how many rappers can go the length
|
| Back in your system with extra strength
|
| We eat emcees, outdo and surpass em
|
| But what’s gonna make ya different than the last one?
|
| Boy you touchable
|
| No need to get apologetic
|
| Get your bottom dollar, bet it
|
| Its your problem, I’m a let it
|
| Alone, the High Priest on the microphone
|
| Taking historical lyrical oracles to the dome
|
| My rap is blessed, miraculous
|
| In fact the impact is just, spectacular
|
| Intact with the knack to bust butts
|
| Need I discuss?
|
| My rhymes make your brain freeze like slush
|
| Or slurpees, with unpredictable bumps like herpes
|
| Lets see if you can serve these superb emcees
|
| All you thirty-third degrees
|
| I’ve figured out history’s mysteries
|
| My kinetic energetic poetic motion
|
| Subsides your synthetic notion
|
| Of being the best, fully pressurized
|
| Back up off the microphones, I suggest, you guys
|
| I’m the epitome of shit we be trying to do
|
| When we go and write a rhyme or two
|
| You need some competition?
|
| Boy, you better find my crew
|
| We make clean cuts like a diamond do
|
| Inclined in the mind
|
| And the beat hit with perfect timing too
|
| When I come to your community
|
| I’m flexing diplomatic immunity
|
| Protection connection
|
| Legalize MP5's just to tear up your section
|
| And this is what you must stay aware of
|
| Hieroglyphics faction
|
| Back in your system with extra strength
|
| The eternal energy interaction
|
| Got me developing quicker and
|
| You in a predicament
|
| Punk!
|
| Politicians still wishing we would take
|
| Their prescription for death
|
| Got my trigger finger itchin to grab the mic
|
| Dishing the truth and the magic
|
| Bust with magnum force
|
| And advance forth
|
| Verse Three: Pep-Love
|
| We got to fertilize the soil
|
| Actualize the turmoil
|
| Then sift through the facts and the lies
|
| The world and the war is intense
|
| But I remain relaxed in my intents and actions
|
| My lyrics are bottomless pits
|
| Now they got the red dot on us
|
| Is it a hit?
|
| We escaped every plot on us
|
| Watch as we aviate on tape
|
| And make a statement with what we create
|
| Just wait til the tide break, or dust settle
|
| My? |
| vibrate, and if I must bust metal
|
| Adjust the level
|
| Release the clutch of the devil
|
| While I conduct this concerto
|
| Traveling the ruckus to bring justice
|
| Ring through abyss
|
| And bliss’ll overwhelm you
|
| (Now that we at the helm)
|
| You don’t quit
|
| We go into a realm you never been
|
| And seldom conceived
|
| Perfection achieved |