I've been diggin in the crates / ever since I was living in space
Before the rat race / before monkeys had human traits
I mastered numerology and big bang theology
Performed lobotomies with telekinetic psychology
Invented the mic so could start blessing it
Chin-checking kids to make my point like an impressionist
Many men have tried to shake us
But I twist mic cords into double helixes to show you what I'm made of
I buckle knees like leg braces

Cast a spell of instrumentalness on of any emcees that hate us
So you can try on / leave you without a shoulder to cry on
From now to infinity / let icons be bygones
I firebomb / ghostly notes haunt this
I tried threats, but moved on to a promise
I stomp shit / with or without an accomplice and
Run the gauntlet with whoever that wants this

(Akira) Put a kink in the backbones of clones with microphones
and never satisfy my rhyme jones
Spray in bright day over what you might say
My blood type's krylon / Technicolor type A
On highways, write with road rage
Pages of wind in cages of tin that bounce all around
Surround sound / devouring the scene
Subliminal gangrene paintings / over all the same-thing-
sing-song karaoke copy bull shit
Break bones verbally with sticks-and-stone tactics
Fourth dimension combat convention
Write rhymes at ease while the track stands at attention
Meant to put you away / with a pencil pistol
Official / sixteen-line / the rhyme missile
While you risk your all / I pick out all your flaws
Spitting raw blah blah blah you can say you saw

it's high voltage
this is the unforgettable sound
bringin you up and taking you down
comin at you from every side
making the rhythm and rhyme collide

sometimes I feel like a prophet
misunderstood
under the gun like a new disease

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