Add-2 - Iron Mic lyrics

[Intro] Blessed is he, who in the name of charity and goodwill, shepherds the weak through the valley of darkness, for he is truly his brother's keeper and the finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger, those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. And you will know my name is The Lord when I lay my vengeance upon thee [Verse] I see this rap sh** as easy, I got it down to a science Rock 'em like Goliath my verses is k**in' giants This the book of Eli, they pay tons to see it I raised the bar so high Dhalsim couldn't reach it Yo, the weak leave when they see it, I cc'd it I'm too seasoned, I'm too odd, we ain't even What I'm writing n***as be bitin' like babies teething Or biting like Eve when she eatin' apples in Eden Yo, restore the madness sure 'nuff, now who the baddest? You crossed the line, you gon' need more then your border pa**es I ain't never slacking, never happen You see it in my face until I get more work done than La Toya Jackson I admit it, I should be admitted into a psych ward I'm committed, chlamydia sick as given from five who*es Now why he say five? He looney listen to Luniz "I Got 5 On It" at 5 in the morning I murder MCs, leave they mothers mourning Their homies is twisted, liquor pour out for em I bomb n***as with no warning Me and 9th just play Jesse and Walter White We stepping on toes, this sh** is like Harlem Nights My rhyme scheme is mean like a dope fiend lean n***a please, your sixteens are sweeter than pralines I picked the perfect song for the fat lady to sing Teri, Ace and Hakeem this ain't the same dream Something ain't adding up when you hear the sh** that they say y'all How the hell you a boss, ain't you got you a day job? sh** I face mobs, I scar faces like Facemob So fix your face you n***as looking like Tate Modern art There's no equal, on top like a church steeple Momma's angel was angry listening to the evils Don't stop the music like Yarbrough & Peoples All eyes on me like 2Pac or a peephole, yo I poke holes into each and all of your plans Shadow box with Peter Pan, punchlines will never land I -- kick it! -- y'all don't understand n***a I don't write rhymes, I write some "Got damn!"s Jamla back, back like we never left 9th gave me a shot I ain't give the ball back yet See I will break you apart without me breaking a sweat Y'all all talk, and ain't saying sh** like the Muppets Chuck There's no sk** for real to the rhymes they write But y'all in love with the hype like a crackhead's wife See I can give you a clip if you n***as is sound bitin' You wrote that in five minutes? No sh**, it sounds like it! But poor me, I'm dope til I OD These rappers you call the future can't f** with the old me Shake will tell you the same, Chance'll tell you the same I was chillin with Common and Nas on the same day And the year before at New York and The Roots on the same stage So I don't care if you sleep, I'll just wake you up at your wake Yo, this sh** real I been this and I'm still ill I spit some sh** that make Michael J Fox sit still See I'm not playing -- all bars, not drinking Straight body -- not planking I shot n***as and I'm not ratin' Add-2 all day, everyday and I'm not changing n***a