damn back again up on track again some of y'all black again it got dark hyprocites forget like marionettes strings in the back like nets the chosen one who can laugh themselves to death lack of rhymes meaningless punch lines like Israel and Palastine good news there is some hard ass times repeated hook lines and chorus' got the jam but gettin paid up off the misses ain't nothin wrong but wait fuck another love song it's the r&b strangler bringing nosie in the wranglers rock all the heads big times and alzheimers shot the pill while I drop skills up in Brazil Lord save us from that sword of Davis that kidnap hip hop tracks and the beats in the game of rap care less about the gold in it got 'em running from the paparazzi when the feds come and doom your party don't you know it's illuminati resurrection in the game here to save you
we gettin ready to turn this shit to the two and three zeros have all the clocks goin backwards have everything goin haywire you lauged before let's see you laugh now blue cow
behold the one man million man march apocalyptic no power in this happy hour hazordus no you don't like lazarus star spelled backwards is rats I'm trapped in the back with these industry cats one step forward two steps back making habits claiming habitats wish you could turn back the hands of time pop the track eight track lincoln contniental I'm the mouth that roared both live and die by the sword the six man be sinning from the beginning the suckers hand be hidden knocking your block with some sense PE got more jewels than dead presidents the devil try to get me cross like a crucifix but I am focused on the vultures new world order is goin down I'm the spook that sat by the sound fucking with Sadamn will bring a new Saigon ain't nothing changed PE we be the same crew boy
and for all y'all that's been sleeping on us you're lacking you're lacking I've got my mand that's about to sneak up on you and your crew aiyo Masta Killa I want you to put one up in 'em son and show 'em you ain't done son ball 'em with the back of the gun son
sliding down broadway beneath the j line slumped in the incline position mind travellin beyond the shell which holds the soul controlled by the Allah I be most humble but also punishable for those who are unlawful to righteousness I strive to stay alive and live this many fell victim to the wisdom the track ovulates the mic like prostate gland imperegnates onto the paper the pain pours for the love of my brother that hurts just the same my gun I bust to maintain baffels and eludes those who label the God being anti-social chose not to apply their third eye I travel at the speed of thought rate what will enable a man to levitate
and you can take that and put that on the back of your brain coming straight to you from Masta Killa I told you PE is still in full effect we ain't taking no shorts and y'all need to know that to make your head fat boy