the God MC on stage
fall on your knees and pray
stop rapping bout cocaine if you transport it like John Forte
I say, you'll probably sleep on every real raw MC in Toronto
just another ignorant Tommy Hilfiger model
them clothes are over, I saw that racist redneck on Oprah
take a slave owner, nail his toes to his shoulders
stop their profit off Black struggle and culture
savage vultures ain't fly, act divine but their shine is lackluster
I wanted all the juice plus seagram's gin
then puffin the greenest weed til Jay-Z music couldn't make me be feelin' it
keeping it hardcore like a charred corpse
out of body experience allow me to hear what people think is going on in the artform
how many queers?
i don't know, but they give blowjobs and swallow
then go back to gaybashing faggots tomorrow
i'm not homophobic, but you oughta know, some thug rappers live behind the closet door down on the low
i wonder: does their mama know?
i'm gonna piss off everybody!

you want the truth? YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE TRUTH
you wanna be fresh dressed in new shoes investing in sweatshops with youth
forgetful as hell, never questioning the liars... SOUL ON FIRE x 2

in the board game of life, i'm Most Valuable Person
quite like I'm Julius Erving, suburban adults squirming while learning
like it or not
these soliloquies break down our people's self destruction and misery
godless powers controlled by the international man of mystery but you're still little like Mini Me
see the deepness of your spirit reflects the potential of your divinity
i know what's real before Hollywood tried to define
using multi-million dollar budgets thru love and fear
they fuck your ears and eyes with a weird science
and in the lower class, we fight for scraps like mice and rats
committing sickening violent acts, like my homie K-Naan, we strugglin
and even Stevie sees and keeps on wondering
how the national guard does sanctioned capital punishment
it's all on the path to the one world government
you're sitting there screwing your hand to porn on your computer
learn to be a sharpshooter before Lucifer turn your city to Falluja, loser!

chorus

it's still fuck the corrupted police
the loveliest dream is me and esther baxter getting nasty under the sheets for five days
to rap fakes, i'm the guy whose mind produces lazer beams
shooting through crowds brains like Soundwave
this is a bloodsport with illegal foreign objects like Bolo Yeung
how can you spit vocals with a broken tongue?
guerilla penmanship, the pastor attacker, blasphemous madman rapper bringing heat to you bastards like the Satanic Rapture
my day to day, I elevate for fortune and fame until the entire globe change
hate it then love it like Game
post millenium tension, the product of a president that's psychotic
technology is stalking, forget the streets, sattelites is watching
information's limited, they're only giving partial thoughts
so you never know when they're implementing martial law
you support american terrorists that make massacres look like a fake accident, i'm planning a Holy War with hopes to destroy the Pope and the Vatican!!!