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