Bronze Nazareth - Matte BLK Rapana lyrics

[Canibus:] Cobra cabana, cut your tongue off with katana The war monger wearin’ Bodhidharma body armor Son of Ravana, Ashwathama Mahabharat Parama Brahman, surpreme rasta Practice extreme Prajna, samsara this is nirvana Buddhavacana from Tathāgatagarbha My four fathers conscious like Dhyāna You don’t even understand what I’m sayin’, be honest Lightning bolt Vajrayana, thunderbolt Obama With B.A. Baracus a black tomahawk chopper Mr. T doin’ the Cha Cha dressed like Zulu Shakas Eatin’ green eggs, hasa and salsa You know you wearing bootleg when the logo is too big When the tag says, “Made in Manolo Jesus Crib” Matte black AR, ACOGS and K Bars You make duck sauce outta Gog and Magog The airborne flippers with meteorite zippers Tell the skipper to use helio light dimmers You know you ain’t in the right business, you like to spit I like to listen We like hyenas babysittin’ some kittens I swoop down like a winged Griffin and pinch 'em Leave his limbs missin’, dirty a** feet like city pigeons [Bronze Nazareth:] Yeah, I promise piranhas, minor marijuana farmer

A white widow spider lighter, plantain clips for llamas Atomic, Verlander slider shell providers Catch comets cigarillos spell cumulus climber Spit shiner, uterus finder, secluded survivor Diva scuba diver combined with urban MacGyver rhymer Matte black clouds on top of my family opera My mood is chupacabra sprinkled with ocean liners In St. Lucian waters, screws loosen hardest armor The constant garden mixed with George Carver, Pearl Harbors Swirl diamonds in my verse, train of thought robbers Chisel chopper chapters, Montego Bay climates Visible monuments inside the sound, acknowledge it Kevlaar halos when I ride we gon’ poli kid Meanwhile demolishing, disembowelment Slit ya collagen hologram, disappear like Hollow Man Sharpen pen, drill darts through his cardigan Autograph a camel toe, marvellous artisan Casual till the cannon blow, harvest my sonogram There’ll never be another like me, he probably REM You hate to admit you feelin’ it like a phantom limb No plaques but I planted platinum whims Jesus feet not one of the kings? Sacrilege