[Chorus: Blakkamore]
[Verse 1: Blakkamore]
[Verse 2: Planet Asia]
A thorn in your skull with knowledge born [?]
X-File reptilian culture
The GOVs crucifying GODs daily
My oracle is historical
Identify the characteristics of a mystic
The seven spear working in harmony with the willing of my holy scrolls
Meaningful from the mind’s higher faculties of accuracy coinciding as I rap to the beat
From the cradle to post-graduate
Most gravitate towards my ministry
Nothing is industry when you in the streets
I cultivate my own spiritual growth
Jazz musician, these are lyrical notes played perfectly due to one
The sun, the moon, the stars, my bars rulin’ ‘em
Top of the hill, mе and my hooligans chill and break bread once thе jewel is revealed
When it came to Adam, God’s angels had to kneel
[Verse 3: Killah Priest]
Priesthood like Clint Eastwood, y’all wreck feats like the woods
Connect the streets to the woods
Wild at night, prowl to fight
The mics will play ’til the owls in flight
Fakes on ice, miles are tight
Crazy like bugs around the light, price
Sacrifice the afterlife, the Nazarite
The master in white, the chapters I write
Eat rappers all day, the appetite so
Thank the prince rocking frankincense
Past tense, glass tints, harassment
Torment, lay dormant, the HRSMN
Holier than thou, the omen child
Chief Smoking-cloud
Birds fly into a crown, then fall upon my head
And just like a Psalm I read
Coming back [?]
[Verse 1: Blakkamore]
[Verse 2: Planet Asia]
A thorn in your skull with knowledge born [?]
X-File reptilian culture
The GOVs crucifying GODs daily
My oracle is historical
Identify the characteristics of a mystic
The seven spear working in harmony with the willing of my holy scrolls
Meaningful from the mind’s higher faculties of accuracy coinciding as I rap to the beat
From the cradle to post-graduate
Most gravitate towards my ministry
Nothing is industry when you in the streets
I cultivate my own spiritual growth
Jazz musician, these are lyrical notes played perfectly due to one
The sun, the moon, the stars, my bars rulin’ ‘em
Top of the hill, mе and my hooligans chill and break bread once thе jewel is revealed
When it came to Adam, God’s angels had to kneel
[Verse 3: Killah Priest]
Priesthood like Clint Eastwood, y’all wreck feats like the woods
Connect the streets to the woods
Wild at night, prowl to fight
The mics will play ’til the owls in flight
Fakes on ice, miles are tight
Crazy like bugs around the light, price
Sacrifice the afterlife, the Nazarite
The master in white, the chapters I write
Eat rappers all day, the appetite so
Thank the prince rocking frankincense
Past tense, glass tints, harassment
Torment, lay dormant, the HRSMN
Holier than thou, the omen child
Chief Smoking-cloud
Birds fly into a crown, then fall upon my head
And just like a Psalm I read
Coming back [?]
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