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Substance 

Frolic in the depths of knowledge 
the clock is the heart of life 
thinking mundane as seconds tick through one vein 
minutes are blood flowing one way 
emotions stab at my watch 
now I got nothing but time on my hands 
bland lifestyles turn heads toward the promise land 
media used as contraband 
children running the streets in undergarments 
immigrants struggle with the dollar 
getting the American dream started working as INS targets 
while their sons move weed, dodging misdemeanor charges 
martyred militants claiming I God 
making me guilty of spiritual conviction 
visions of guns with violent motion 
followed by coffins locked and closed in 
hugs and roses, drugs in heavy doses 
blunts roasting when memories are toasted 
done choking, lying to my own psychosis 
emerging from the smoke uncloaked 
with my pen as the staff of Moses 
hoping to free loved ones to live life the way destiny wrote it 
beyond the way history told it, molded from Augury’s omens 
caught in Lucifer's notion, birthed in pyramids 
underneath each brick is 26 alpha numerics
words of wisdom glitch in the system, uncaged from the matrix 
my physical still held down by gravity 
making me a victim of my own tragedies 
constantly attacking the man in me

If my thoughts were beings on other planets 
engaged in Star Wars, claiming Vice Lord 
would they throw up endorphins? 
took the game and morphed it 
with resident evil kneivel cerebral cortex 
sold my way to drop top Porsche’s 
Seasons Change got 5 mics in The Source and 
I got women with breasts perky and gorgeous like Halle Berry in Swordfish calling me papi 
triple platinum probably, this song features Ja Rule and Ashanti 
my fan base just multiples then 
getting your undivided attention was my intention 
fuck the previously mentioned, birth earth lessons 
banging straight out the box like vaginal prosthetics 
focus shifts to scribing a magnum opus with such magnum force 
I’m forced back to the closet rocking back and forth 
eating strange fruit with the spirit of Aaliyah 
telling me my soulmate is more than a woman 
moving to a glimmer of suicide in my left eye 
if I used a 45 to blow my own mind 
would I be amongst the greatest of all time 
transforming optimum rhymes to collide with Optimus Prime 
making me a semi truck, speak divine righteousness it exists in my lungs 
money stuns the populous into dicking over god 
like a hermaphrodite Israelite masturbating in the face of Christ 
what I write is a danger to my group, soon to go solo 
a living version of Public Enemy’s logo 
combat politics more crooked than Debo’s eye 
making the system collapse quicker than Hank Gathers at the half court line


Strung Out 

Once commanded a literal understanding 
of commandment tablets and Quran fragments 
making my mathematics tantric 
wasn’t baptized so I couldn’t claim Christ as the savior of my life 
hated the fact he turned water into wine 
because wine became water to my father 
He beat me, my brother and my grandmother’s daughter 
as he led his lambs to the slaughter 
three souls drowned in the thoughts of the brain washer 
making it harder to believe Heaven was branded beyond the granite 
church made me pay to search for the creator of earth 
they turned religion into a system of pimpin’ 
watching angels back handing planets knocking my world off it’s axis 
true meanings unmasked 
teachings we believe in written by a drunken heathen 
known as the king of England 
plights of Israelites partially removed due to so-called moments of clarity 
now known as Hebrews we knew only to seize the moment 
making anything before us ancient, the future adjacent 
complacent with struggles of previous generations 
denying the enslavement of entire populations 
Black men confined to join a nation 
telling me god is a fragment of my imagination 
because the man who created him was pagan, lacking pigmentation 
millions became Malcolm Little reading behind dictionary pages 
spiritualization treated as pussy so we could face it 
still I’m Max from Pi, drilling holes in my brain 
to relieve frustration of not deciphering 216 character equations


Black Monday 

Rap went commercial 
when will it return to program? 
nomads become cliche within themselves 
as more become product on the shelves 
I lay between urban decay and suburbia 
society giving my mind a hernia 
troubled youth shackled by George W 
so I smuggle truth into entertainment 
the battle for my allegiance 
began when my bloodline was pillaged by Spaniards, who’s my savior? 
eyed by enemies a genetic failure 
inches from inquisition 
commissioned to seek retribution for the movement 
until Ras’ tooth pick is saluted 
diluted brainwaves become seismic 
enriched with stolen jewels of Osiris 
snatched off the belt of Orion 
I emerged on the horizon 
resting on the dark side of the sun 
came with 4 Horsemen disguised as Nimrods portrait 
birthed dormant in the earth’s uterus 
moving through universes with verses to versus 
the version of the person I am and will be 
photograph my shadow, I’m still me 
kill me by electric chair on a Friday 
mourn me on a Saturday 
bury me under moonlight on a Sunday 
all because 6/18/79 was a Black Monday


SELLS 

Push beyond 3rd millennium 
triple optic adamantium, ink 5th pentium 
dream theme music, bent on dominance 
30lb magnets amplify my subconscious mind 
baptized in stigmata’s bloodline 
selling my spritualization, education, lyricism , liberation 
which was a mixture of alcohol and a naive fifteen year old 
don’t hold dicks like a lesbian chick who can’t make a fist 
lip balms, spit psalms as blood drips from my slit palms 
cut with the sword of Islam 
so my genetic code is told through every musical mold 
men trading products of their semen to keep their pockets creamin’ 
death for treason, forever speaking artistic languages 
voice of slaves shackled in chains and whips 
yet the same chase chains and whips 
cane and chips, fame and tits 
what part of the game is this? 
all the dick of Pac and Big 
what, you forgot about Ra and KRS dismantling ample men 
before Jay and Nas started batting? 
been sniffing too much Ether 
wish I could marry wack MC’s 
so I become a wife beater 
waking hip hop from its epileptic seizure


Live From Inner Thought 

Sometimes I just want to 
do drugs and drink 
it's too hard to think 
madness on the brink 
the missing link 
skeletons emerge from the closet 
brain celibate dancing the devils mosh pit 
John Malkovich with a gun to my head 
in the cockpit 
counting down the clock ticks 
rain pours to wash away the toxins 
not knowing who God is 
grew up catholic chilling with convicts 
learning the block pitch 
dealers cutting up the drop ship 
definition of context 
money knots swelling up my pockets 
running from the darkness 
bullet proof dodging the glock kiss 
38 in the game of life still a novice 
verbalizing my written correspondence 
live from inner thought 
dead man walking amongst lost prophets 
backed in a corner running out of options


BBQ & Chaos 

I’m indelible sworn 
born from the fire that burned slow 
untouchable within my Company Flow 
load the chamber when my money gets low 
stone cold existence 
pain bleeds from the pen 
watch my soul get christened 
deadlights glisten, shot of adrenaline 
Pennywise specimen, shape shift acumen 
the first cuts accurate 
Rob Sonic Plaster Man 
Mr. Magic rap attack 
came up with bboys selling gats and crack 
out the backs of Cadillacs 
rehash the battle axe 
cooking up bbq and chaos 
98 Jordan in the playoffs 
Oz’s in paint cans 
selling hydroponic to white girls with spray tans 
smack the shit out of you 
like Sean Price adlibs on playback


Berserker Fury 

Don’t let ‘em push the button cousin
who let the dusted gluttons in the function?
this ones dedicated to the baby boomers
daily gloomers who maneuver through the future
with scalpel and suture gettin’ the world wide open
takin’ back the stolen notions that
there’s no hope for the hopeless
while the soulless steal our token
forcing us to roast the potent
pour the Molsen holdin’ our emotions
while they steal the word from the pulpit
ignoring the fact the globe is more corrosive
focus, chokin’ on nuclear wind
back then when me and Stukin the kid
where boozin’ the gin, cruisin’ for chicks
not realizing sin was the movement within
penning anthems for the masses
bringing forth this classic
unleashing the magic of the manical ox
who unlocked the lock that my mandible got
birthing my own radical rock
letting go of fanatical plots
I’m going down in a blaze of shots
rot in eyes of judge and jury
feeling my berserker fury


Skeleton Key 

Soul unrested my minds infested
with other peoples questions
I’ve never taken the time
to relieve my own tension
open up my thoughts and find
where the scars are impressed in
how does it make you feel
you don’t know the reasons
for your best friends lessons?
where there’s pain you find the connection
what about that little girl
you tried to give the world?
hope you didn’t mess up her vision of life
by putting your heart where she isn’t
regret getting her name
tatted on your wrist yet?
it’s being a father figure from a distance
it’s unfortunate you can’t live through intention
happy birthday baby, maybe one day
you’ll understand what you been through
when you feel sadness
that’s the Devil trying to get you
remember I’m always with you
til then I’m an empty seed
left with my heart for a skeleton key


Dollar Billed Pyramids 

In God I trust
knock the dust off my faced in value
I’m chased in volume
encased in volume of money, cash, hoes
bloody stash nose
her body has those curves
that instill the thrill
to kill bills like
some coked up Beatrix Kiddo
in the back of spliffed out limos
without the tinted windows
suckin’ for the fiscal
her bodies oh so sinful
to the instrumental of
Can’t It Be So Simple
lookin’ at this girl there’s nothing
she won’t get into
while her son’s at home
smashin’ on Nintendo
she’s blowin’ on them whistles
down to the creamy gristle
gettin’ whipped by pistols
just to feed her kiddo
100 dollar billers
make her titties jiggle
thinkin’ my God, he’s never gonna uplift you


Wonder Years 

What’s wrong with that man Daddy?
I don’t know, keep staring
he’s a freak show
legs sponsored by Calico
police peek through the peep hole
and see the tears of Calixto
huddled over Nico
blood fresh off the needle
witnessing the last time
the rush fuckin’ pleased you
fold your hands son
here comes the church
and the steeple
then the people who tried to piece you
and your mind as feeble
holding onto drugs
as the reason God won’t keep you
my soul became see through
flash my confined mind to the 1-9-9-9
at that time when I took a blind sign
to a nines shine
seconds away from resting my sublime mind
on a Pink Floydian wall
outsiders think Freudian thoughts
appropriate laws lay under fears
to get me through the wonder years

From After Years Of Television
 

Locust Myst 

Oh my God I’m in fight for my life
struggling to see the light
I lift the last bit of rubble and bricks
to wake up to a sunless kiss
surrounded by the locust mist
face severely burned upper lip blistered
greeted by mother natures nuclear winter
accompanied by apocalypse her twin sister
feet splintered Jesus now I know how Christ felt
when the non believers dealt their hand to sinners
nailing his soul to wooden fixtures
which mirrors the reflection of a society
bent on self propriety
eyeing me a dead weight
not a contribution element
cursing my melanin I don’t ride the dick
of a mule or elephant
words once heaven sent become here say
like knowledgeable abdominal follicles
off the Devils topical
funny how Armageddon changes your perception
continue to move through the wreckage
looking for medics or where enforcement is
come to remains of an orphanage
dead children, burning buildings, gone are my feelings
it’s bad enough I’m dealing with the scenic
piles of dolls plastic and pissy mattress
oh shit a survivor maybe he knows what happen


Notice The Unnoticed 

Back where it all started
asleep and half hearted
half man half martyr
lookin’ to unmask the masked target
bumpin’ I’ll Sleep When You’re Dead
loud and obnoxious
quoting the Koran
for good grace of the prophets 
cuz the devil ain’t no locksmith
find solace in parallel elevation
of public transportation
scopin’ inebriated faces
lookin’ at life as makeshift
sharing the same hustler nature
same lustful hatred
reaching for the hand of God
with a closed fist wrist broken
carrying the weight of the hopeless
even God notices the unnoticed
same line, same mind, same grind, same find
the grass is always greener
even for the dense
drawn from a dead end sketch
cuz they didn’t even know
when and where to make the catch
 


American Graffiti 

Breath radiation of Saturn
splatter actors faster than the teachings of the master
terrorists exist in all forms of attackers
from the White House to country side pastures
leavin’ Cube’s banter fractured
what does it matter?
all that matters is the matter that lives in the here after
bending over pastors for making children a prophets bastard
pillaged for monetary stature
becoming wannabe rappers like condoms that have been nutted in
true art on punishment
to put it in laymen
my statements are laced with hatred and anguish
crashin’ New York Jets like demented Joe Namaths
patience run thinner than diarrhea Steven King novels
hostile coke sniffers become president mouths limber
gambling freedom for nuclear winter
injure democratic communism as holographic Kennedy’s
snipers wish they could hit ‘em
the governments an immune system
rejecting the cure for the sickness
with crooked crucifixes
as the middle class and needy
become the sacrificial lamb for American graffiti
 


When Lightning Strikes 

Speak with dominant hammers
as a kid surrounded by guns
drugs and recognizable cancers
so I searched for definable answers
within West Side country grammar
world broken down in multiple fractures
16 bars, Sistine art, pristine knots
mislead God’s which breeds odds
self lord and master
welcome to life after
the bastard word crafter
bumpin’ ghetto blasters
echoing His Majesty’s Laughter
basking in alpha matter
emerging from the womb with 30 tattoos
no stab wounds or clap wounds
all this gun talk and no Papoose?
that’s like a black dude growing Hitler’s mustache
packin’ gun racks
screamin’ I love crack
reality bites mics
when my lightning strikes twice
 


Transformation 

Blood and tears the familiar libation
Gemini’s twin sky pacin’ bloodlines sacred
half jazz musician, quarter addict and beautician
walkin’ with the skewed vision of the people
in case you missed it
you asked for my past
well I’m that fragmented piece of glass
screamin’ when oppression shattered my American dream
it’s not hopeless til the masses take notice
and the country bestows it
imagine me unfocused
a place you don’t want to be
like a child abductor claiming to be your ex lover mother fucker
puncture the skull structure of Usher Raymond
with angered patrons who like gats and spiked bats
painted a picture so perverse
Chili named it after the hand of God engraved it
terrorists laughing in the face immigration
taking retribution for Iraqi oil spilled faces
now my thoughts have no factual basis
cuz my brain is complacent
in the playstation generation
take heed to my social commentary declaration
 


Chi Mil Triangle 

Cannibalism exists within my metabolism
fanatical wisdom is encrypted in a radical system of inscriptions
to imprison what I’m livin’
I bear witness, givin’ you the naked truth
the government killed wives of Black Panthers like Ray Caruth
entertainment proves savin’ beseeched me
each second I become an endangered species
demons visit me in dream scenes
indeed there’s an increased need for peace
released into space I face my thoughts jarred
after I sparred with astrological czars
composing Allah akbars on Tabernacle shards somewhere between Earth and Mars
God’s son surrounded by 93 billion wannabe stars
shrouded in mystery, I consume the moon swallowin’ American History X
pretense to lobotomy
obviously my logic is lost in basslines and mosh pits
young minds embezzled I wrestled with dirty money
movin’ for currency so I spear mints
listeners don’t hear shit begin defecation
becoming the illest thing walkin’ the street
since the first AIDS patient classified by the World Health Organization
 


Rise 

Dance on the rings of Saturn
with the son of the master
manufacture cadavers and 88 tusk hammers
to shatter the mask
reflected in the ceiling of glass
bask in my ominous past
sippin’ the blood of man out of autonomous flask
walkin’ a prosperous path with fraudulent math
flash an oculus mass
crash a paranoia agent construct
conduct Zeus’s electricity
through ethnicity showing multiplicity
drowning oppression crowned in liberty
synergy passed on through struggle of song
and lovingly psalms
carry the muscle of God in palm
guiding the lost in anonymous cause
until we’re freed and gone
from devilish jaws hold the applause
in the name of Allah and Mary Magdalen’s son
the battle has begun within the shadows of the sun
until we stand as one
 


Life Blood 

The Devil enters my soul
my breath becomes cold mid winter
with a sudden inclination to injure
overwhelmed with visions to hit her
the first blows delivered
insert evidence between psychosomatic elements the precedent 
for what Kane and Abel told
strengthen the hold, mangle her throat
gouge her eye sockets
runnin’ out of breath reachin’ where I God is
my God it’s six hundred sixty six seconds beyond logic
my rage becomes toxic
to the point,I step outside my body to watch it
with no concept I’m monstrous
down the road, I’ll be a secret amongst the prophets
bludgeon her chest, feel her ribs knockin’
talkin’ with hatred and love
tasting her blood, raising her stumps
sky ward, onward christian soldier
fold her in half, enclose her in sacks
and relish the fact
I’ve sent mankind on a murderous path
you do the math
 


Relics Of The Boombap 

Brown boy, brown boy, turn that shit down
relics of the boombap, the superlative sound
relatives and friends buried underground
public enemy of the state said date, ‘88
pre adolescent kids diggin’ through the crates
lookin’ for an escape to fight the power
cower in the presence of cowards
who siphon the powder through the nostril
hostile rap groups blamed the neighborhoods desecration
responsible for another elevation
anticipation of riding the El
entangled in protection of Guardian Angels
from crooked cops who want to detain you
lookin’ for answers to a case that went stand still
calling you a cancer descendants of Black Panthers
CVL’s and the Stone solid/
at seven not wanting college
because I had an education
of Rakim’s and Chuck D’s knowledge
 


Monumental State Of Mind 

This is an open letter to Hilary
Senator McCain and Obama
I don’t care where in the world is Osama
the scapegoat of a monster
who Mr. Bush had us believe
if he were in prison terrorism wouldn’t exist
ignorance is bliss myth of fingerprints
here’s the list of things that need to be to co exist
bring the troops home from Iraq
give us the peace sign back
I know it was about saving face but this goes beyond that
you gotta dead the Patriot Act
it mad Arabs the new black
Islamic racism made me choose
between patriotism and my belief system
I’m rolling with God to the finish
women got the right to choose don’t close the clinics
then you gotta silence the cynics on this immigration sickness
all we want is our piece of the pie and our vision of mastery
whether it’s McDonald’s, in the fields, or factories, give us amnesty
God Bless America, home of the brave, soul of the slave
land of democracy and lack of oil
to the victor go the spoils