Yes, he's back - it's the asthmatic hash addict One who fell in love wit rap and had to take a stab at it Like oj, smooth as the ojays "moon's got the mood of the old days" is what the folks say Something like coltrane, but drunk off the propane My mixtape? nothing but (four/fore)play Like four square when we were four man Spitting it so clear With syntax compared to voltaire's, yeah I spit 16 bars like shakespearean sonnets That blend better with the beat than tangeray wit the tonic Its just the insane way i get on it But if i hear one more rap about crack or cane i'm gon' vomit Him insane - something in his brain is demonic How else are you explaining his logic Catch me with the spray paint, train bombing Like MI-5 did in july without blaming islamics [Chorus] If you're tired of the fictitious raps Lying about their d** and the'r gats If you're tired of the riff and the raff Then motherf**er, here's an anthem ferthat Tony moon's the jean toomer of rap The one man new negro movement is back Spittin written revolutions on tracks Sodium pentathol in his pen is how he keeps nothing but the truth in his raps I see my people straying fast, and Change to maniacs as a ways to rake the cash in The government's enslaved the ma**es To the point where we take from our brothers' plate to break our fastin Shiny objects is where our brains are fastened The media portrays me as an ape and savage An ex-slave saw shackles and faints to blackness Now thats what the f** i call a chain reaction All of this is sad to say though But i can't let this pa**ion lay low So i'm going against the ma**es' say so Like an african galileo [Chorus] If you're tired of the fictitious raps Lying about their d** and the'r gats If you're tired of the riff and the raff Then motherf**er, here's an anthem ferthat To end the track, i blow a cloud in the wind Burn the dutch like a holocaust survivor out for revenge The combination of my mouth with this pen Will have a fountain of crim- Son blood spouting out of your skin I've been moving crowds, like the towers did, since I had ta become a house slave to poison the master Any challenger tryin to spit wit the moon Ends up like the Challenger trying to get to the moon, boom I come through with two Glocks aimed like boondock saints I suggest you start praying if you not saved Shallow? then the gallows is where you might hang Cause rap's got crackers thinking all we do's cop cane Admit it kid, who's as sick as moon? You miserable with these n***as who who*e scores, ignoring the true lyrical So i'm slippin messages in lyrics like spirituals Evidence of ellison's description of invisible [Chorus] If you're tired of the fictitious raps Lying about their d** and the'r gats If you're tired of the riff and the raff Then motherf**er, here's an anthem ferthat