step inside the ring, with the king of all kings, dookie chains four finger rings, you could never ever touch the emcee hammers that i swing, badabing, you could catch it in the lipstick, like you kissed it, i hit you in the third eye like a mystic, masochistic, sadistic, i kick some shit simplistic, and you still prolly missed it, so why the fuck even risk it, its a tisket its a tasket, i am Moses in a basket, i am Job amongst my ashes, and you all a bunch of faggots, got the game ass backwards, nobody raised you bastards, but big poppa’s home, roll another cone, and i will carve another poem out of stone, out of bone, out of granite, with a chisel then i’ll sand it, shit i’ve been doper than you all god dammit, interplanetary transit, i bless your soul as it leaves the planet,
when i pull out Mjolnir, then you all disappear, ain’t a muthafucka here, gonna beat me to the last beer, you get hit with a steel chair, i aint tryin to split hairs, but i will split your wig right fuckin there, dire bear, dire wolf out the lair, shave ya pussy dye your hair, shave it off i don’t care, i don’t like it when they stare, ive been meditating im in prayer, so put ya hands in the air, if you’s a soothsayer, the witch doctor, who shot ya, in front of ya sponsor, over two grams of shitty ganja, you get stabbed by the dumpster at the Benne Hanna, i aint the muthafucka, i will cut ya, i will tummy tuck ya, i will fuckin gut ya, and spread ya blood like some honey mustard, your whole crew bustas, i shatter stars into clusters, rollin thunders, for all my star dusted huffers,
armored up battle beast, we can battle in these streets, or we can battle over beats, you dont wanna battle me, i run on solar power and i got a back up battery, you can pick a dark hour aint nobody bad as me, this is something that you have to see, the god particles interact with me, peep the family tree and see im divine, pop the acid out my spine, and journey to the center of my mind, where theres demons of all kinds, and thee only sounds you hear are from bones when they grind, i feed off the souls, the god of thee old, the god of rot and mold, of death and cold, knives and pistols, i breathe iced crystals, crystallized syllables, that resonate through minerals, i call them runes, you call them head stones and tombs, forks and spoons, well make some room, cuz i got more comin’ soon, i have felt your wrath now muthafucka you will feel my doom,
credits
from Thunder God,
released October 5, 2014
Produced by - Genocide
Mixed and Mastered by - STK
