Yea, yea, immortal technique (you know)...Harlem to South Africa
(this is how it goes) for the head warmers, y'know wut I mean..this is
for my peoples..insomniac I can't sleep (it's real son) Mic Check. ayo,
ayo (yea)
Im a rebel that'll fire missles at red dawn
but before I issue the order to send bombs,
I want presidential money like execs at n'ron
and goldiggin p*** chicks for me to spend on
But Im'a only pay for 1 night stay at the Ritz
I wont even get you a towel when I spray on your t***,
Im not a massaginist I just like it when gurls are
massagin this so pop s***
And Im'a smoke you and your b**** momz
Im ambidextrist the microphone cause switch palms
Immortal Technique phsychotic n**** to spit calm
misinterpreted by the media like Islaam
I love the underground but not enuough chicks in a thong
what the f*** how could beautiful women be wrong?
Tech load clips like they were hits from the bong
that was supposed to be the end of the song
but its not the freestyle got me stuck in the zone
I cant stop brainwashed commercial hip-hop the government plot
But Im'a shoot down the propaganda stuck in your brain
like the military did to the fourth terrorist plain
that was ill but shut the f*** up and let me explain
what good is fame and flossan
when you stuck in a coffin?
and who the f*** you gonna run to when i make you an orphan?
Im metamorphisizin into somethin you thought that i could never be
ghetto engineered sickness without a remedy
my heart pumps nitro-glyceran and hennessey twisted chemistry
Cry blood and i bleed venom
never subliminal clear with the message im sending
bending the s***e-time continuum
Just to get to you
and blast you so hard itll kill the person next to you
So in retrospect remember and dont f***** forget
yall are walkin dead people yall just dont know it yet!
Yea...yea n****..its on...you know wut time it is..
im out...harlem n****.....this is for all the devils..
I'm commin in here to take your head off.
(this is how it goes) for the head warmers, y'know wut I mean..this is
for my peoples..insomniac I can't sleep (it's real son) Mic Check. ayo,
ayo (yea)
Im a rebel that'll fire missles at red dawn
but before I issue the order to send bombs,
I want presidential money like execs at n'ron
and goldiggin p*** chicks for me to spend on
But Im'a only pay for 1 night stay at the Ritz
I wont even get you a towel when I spray on your t***,
Im not a massaginist I just like it when gurls are
massagin this so pop s***
And Im'a smoke you and your b**** momz
Im ambidextrist the microphone cause switch palms
Immortal Technique phsychotic n**** to spit calm
misinterpreted by the media like Islaam
I love the underground but not enuough chicks in a thong
what the f*** how could beautiful women be wrong?
Tech load clips like they were hits from the bong
that was supposed to be the end of the song
but its not the freestyle got me stuck in the zone
I cant stop brainwashed commercial hip-hop the government plot
But Im'a shoot down the propaganda stuck in your brain
like the military did to the fourth terrorist plain
that was ill but shut the f*** up and let me explain
what good is fame and flossan
when you stuck in a coffin?
and who the f*** you gonna run to when i make you an orphan?
Im metamorphisizin into somethin you thought that i could never be
ghetto engineered sickness without a remedy
my heart pumps nitro-glyceran and hennessey twisted chemistry
Cry blood and i bleed venom
never subliminal clear with the message im sending
bending the s***e-time continuum
Just to get to you
and blast you so hard itll kill the person next to you
So in retrospect remember and dont f***** forget
yall are walkin dead people yall just dont know it yet!
Yea...yea n****..its on...you know wut time it is..
im out...harlem n****.....this is for all the devils..
I'm commin in here to take your head off.