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[Scratching]
You feelin` Outerspace nigger lick two shots We lettin` you know You feelin` Outerspace nigger lick two shots Bow down to something far - greater [Crypt the Warchild] I`m word perfect, write my words in a worse curse And emerge versus, tear this verse in the first person Disturbed surgeon operatin` for those hurtin` It`s most certain that shows jerkin` when my flows workin` Most poetical, watch the game from a gold pedestal Half man/raging bull when I stand next to you Me & Plan identical, make it unbearable The reason that you bleedin`, the reason for needin` medical No need to even threaten you `cause talk is cheap I breed my seeds ready to assault the street Proceed to breathe heavy, get upon this heat Let my lines accumulate inside a vault for weeks My flows are sickenin` - I should be washed & bleached I`m down to get it in you feelin` froggishly Surround you spitter sins wit` a squad that`s deep The ground I fit `em in, let the applaudin` teach [Scratching] You feelin` Outerspace nigger lick two shots We lettin` you know You feelin` Outerspace nigger lick two shots Bow down to something far - greater [Planetary] It`s me, the most evil verbalist alive I`m sicker than one foot in the grave ready to die My brain move, `bout the same speed a train move Disturbed world rap, pain moves you lame crews Rage of angels, no wings crack halos Smack devil`s on payroll when heaven`s gates close I change clothes before rockin` a stained robe My names gold, voice platinum my frame glow My shoebox got Tupac and Pun in it I rock "Hail Mary" spittin` `til the nuns get it I done did it, after twenty five years Five beers I`m buzzed, you sittin` wit` dry tears The atmosphere`s filled wit` debris & dust My wordplay is nothing you emcees should trust Bust back syllable gats blast triumphant Fuck that, we killin` you cats black we run shit [Esoteric] Yeah, you know, it`s Esoteric 7L on the fader [Scratching] Bow down to something far greater [Esoteric] Let me find out these little cats want it wit` Es I`m at ya mum`s rest, stompin` ya chest homie I`m serious I see cats tryna get their cake up Make a nickel, and prepare to be a dyme like make-up The gladiator hit the ring for spars You wanna rock, bring guitars I can`t watch the news, `cause when I sneeze yo, I think it`s SARS To the point I can`t think no bars, I just break ya balls To the cats that cling to bars, to the ones in the mirror lip-syncin` Nas I be shrinkin` stars, once I`m done wit` ya face You gonna have to find a girl who got a thing for scars I be liftin` motherfuckers out their mink & cars Then I lounge in bed, g`ahead count my bread My Boston accent will pronounce you dead Flip a rhyme like an ounce, make sure mouths is fed [Scratching] Bow down to something far greater *2X*
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