Prowla - Omega Man lyrics

[Intro] A land of the lost, a place where we dwell [Verse 1] We from a lost land Where there's MCs not pop bands When I was [?] Now you're acting like this rap sh** was meant for Any sap that's handing in a forged rap consent form It's trench war Smell the d**h stench and flesh raw The rest of y'all ain't even fit to f**ing bench warm This ain't a rent form You can't fake a reference here Now pay your penance or as tenants you'll be yesteryears Hard pressed to hear any new verse that's nearing par Worth appearance fees or fit to charge sixteen bars Yeah I hear 'em saying hip hop's pa**ed But Ima resurrect the b**h and rip the lid off its casket Spit sharp as marksmen Sixth coming of Rakim A craftsman, sergeant at arms grasping stardom Spit blistering scripts, convicted arsonist Murderous purging the scene like Joseph Stalin My flow's slalom, skied up nose blown I'm chargin' stage divin' Wrath of Kane live Apollo, Harlem Hall of fame name draped in martyrdom A lone figure flying the flag like it's Tiananmen [Hook] We from a long lost planet where rap is real Still intact and untapped by the ma** appeal (The way that I feel can never be healed And all we left with is a memory feel) [Verse 2] We from a lost land Where the clocks hands are stopped Before the rot set in Before they shot Scott La Rock Before the shops stocked rap in a section called urban And every third person's thinking they're word surgeons But y'all virgins, first come, first served [?] call curtains I got this b**h's skirt hitched up, mid tit f** But it ain't feel the same since the game got that nip tuck Now it's all plastic, lacking core fabric And I'm looking at the front door like main source is cla**ic sh**, I ain't about to go and bounce from a sinking ship But things are grim ripping on the brink of extinction With original blueprints, guidelines and standards Am I the only one who took them time's up rhymes for granted? (Of course we gotta pay rent, so money connect) But I'd still rather be broke and have a whole lotta respect It's the principle of it I get a rush like I'm dusted Crushing these mother f**ers is what I've become accustomed to My flow's effortless No rest I pepper this Mic like my life depend on a walking, glowing reference [Hook] We from a long lost planet where rap is real Still intact and untapped by the ma** appeal (The way that I feel can never be healed And all we left with is a memory feel)