Verse 1 (Elemental Zazen): Swallow the darts with a hollow heart Tip the bottle meet the maker's mark till the sorrow stops Follow the motto until tomorrow's bought Caught the crooked cop and the narc in the parking lot (Parting shot) Feed em to the starving sharks at the start of dark Never call em off f** what you thought It's ready to spark Set a fire to the Molotov And say your remarks Liars in the pyre admire how the bodies embark Sitting on the asphalt falling apart and lost Nobody cares or monitors Can't figure out the reason for stain on the polymer Unidentified by the coroner Not a single mourner just another soldier trapped in the corridor Can't adapt like a foreigner Sheep to a slaughter never understood the warning or the order the beliefs of gomorroh On the street corner cheap marijuana got the smack for the habit I repeat as a warrior Sure to leave you grasping for air I ain't got a f**ing ration to spare Not even a single fraction to share Deep in your dreams where the demon appears It's the reason I'm here Make you disappear when the beating is near Feast on your fear It's the beast you revere Beneath the diseased sheet Is the key to your tears A priest holding an antique sphere Say a prayer to his feet and cheat d**h for at least a year Verse 2 (Canibus): Yeah yeah, sound like snitchin' to me It don't seem the same 'cause you put it to a different beat
Your mind is blind from a condition called dehydrated third eye Take a break while I bust this rhyme On this level of enlightenment, you are not invited I know you don't like it, but we have all decided Bottom, who shot 'em, I got 'em If I didn't do that, nobody could have stopped him Spit sixteen verse, funky cold medina the first Every rhyme's from the heart and it hurts You wanna talk? How much kevlar you brought? You wanna walk? How much insurance does that cost? Celestial metaphors transmit pure thought They are stored in the akashic vault of the lord The lord thy god, kneel before Zod's iPod Iditarod drawn by white dogs Being shadowed by pale white horse Showtime at the Gallows of course, go in and go hard Cheat d**h to repeat life, rematerialize as light That's why critics theorize I'm nice I drink devil springs vodka, one more shot I'm a monster After four shots I become somber Release albums seasonably to prove what Hip hop means to me Operate the heaviest machinery Kundalini frequency, Quantum Leap DVD Negro dialect translated by me There is no real recourse to cure hollow heart When you worship false idols, idols are not God Envision Quezacotl in a football area at the top of the oval Where townspeople go to witness the holy vocals go global Psycho-social, psycho-somatic, solid soul food On the road to the untold truth