[Intro]
Mr. Turkentine: We have here nitric acid, glycerine, and a special mixture of my own. Together it's horrible dangerous stuff, blows you up. But mixed together in the right way, as only I know how, what do you think it makes?
Charlie Bucket: I don't know, sir
Mr. Turkentine: Of course you don't know. You don't know because only I know. If you knew and I didn't know, then you'd be teaching me instead of me teaching you. And for a student to teach his teacher it's presumptuous and rude
[Hook: Jay Electronica]
One shot two shot, who's that boppin' that rocky boy sound?
One shot, two shot, man down, clan down
Who's that kid on the poster postin'
Posted like the coastguard on the ocean
Wicked slick, sh** no devotion
Just sick sh** no slick promotion
[Verse 1: Jay Electronica]
The extraordinary
King of every February to February, the president of the emissary
The secretary of state, the secretary of flow
The secretary of glow, it's necessary to show
That I can make a motherf**ing mouth say, "Ho!"
Kick it, got my bally's on I'm in zone getting wicked
Laughing at you clones from the throne getting lifted
Lyrically literally sh**ting on these n***as man
I'm from the city where the [?] on the trigger man
Where it can get live, any minute and
The choppers'll chop a hole in the door of your minivan
Where it can get live, any minute and
The choppers'll chop a hole in the door of your minivan
Where it can get live, any minute and
The choppers'll chop a hole in the door of your minivan
Therefore, I ain't worried bout any man or any clan
Or any mini man that wanna get busy
Yes sir, you f**in' with the truest
Young black Jewish, new new newest
Yes sir, you f**in' with the truest
Young black Jewish, new new newest
Yes sir, you f**in' with the truest
Young black Jewish, new new newest
In the hood where you is
Rolling dice with the locals, serving the [?]
I got the whole day off like Ferris Bueller
You can take that to the j**eler
And get fifty thousand gallons of blood out of the Zulus
Frontin' like a MC [?]
You a modern day Judas
I'm walkin' on water and I ain't wettin' the shoelace
You ain't saying nothing with your grill and your screw face
[Hook 2: Ghost1] x2
From the city to the states, from the city to the states
From the dirty south to the [?]
[Verse 2: Jay Electronica]
Gucci to Vera Wang
Don't rebuild cities after hurricanes
Your house, your spouse, your two car garage
The spinners under the range
Lead a n***a to believe he mastered the game
And if you don't have any of the above said material goods
Than you're inferior, chickens'll say your lame
n***as'll rob a liquor store to get them a chain
Shoot up a house party for nothing, to get them a name
Black convict, dope man, oh that's them n***as
And if you think they're really happy go and ask them n***as
I promise it'll be a lie
Position they fingers to throw they hood up in the sky
To tell you man look I
Know what I'm doing is wrong but how can I survive
And when they hear songs like this to get by they cry
For a split second
Then it's back the snapping they fingers to that hit record
Let's meditate for a second
[Hook 2]
[Hook]
[Verse 3: Zed Bias]
[Hook 2]