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Aesop Rock

"Quantum Leap (Cycles To Gehenna Freestyle)"

[Coal]
Hatch the ghost from your shell, with the most spells known to melt face
Sippin’ on star lava, spit bars hotter than hell’s gate
The shell makes a gaping hole, bodies vacant of soul
Roll you in a carpet, bury your carcass in basements to stow
Below foundation when you face him tell Satan hello
Your hoe gets salutations, of f*ck her face in, word to ace in the hole
Got no nation, a viking horde the world will fall before me
So call me the lord, you swing a sword like a girl with Palsy
All exalt me or fall faulty, suck my balls they’re salty
Assault spree charge ensue, if they ask who? tell him Roger Daltrey
My catapults free a barrage you couldn’t dodge accosting
Of course we sabotage, call me Oz I am a god of sorcery
Watch me force feed a di*k to your b*tch's butthole
A cold disposition, the apparition of Tristan Ludlow
The blood flows a jokulhaups, a nuts so to nuke your troops
Execute these f*cks, my style erupts like a Bazooka Tooth
Salute the truth, you bigshot I make the cannon shatter
Cadaver from graveyards raising the bars like a salmon ladder
My patterns gather a new revival to dilemma
Dismember pretender disciples when I Cycle to Gehenna
The epicenter inventor when I demonstrate with this hate
Quaking to make the world remember the energy state I emanate
Inseminate to shape it better, an every endeavor I make is great
While I innovate, what you could never, to devastate what you create

[Tabs]
Tabs, the leader
Quantum leaped into a planet eater after a glass of ether, acid tabs and a massive bag of reefer
Thoughts pass across my synapse so fast it could surpass a cheetah
In a mad dash after a pack of zebras
Trapped inside my mind my thoughts have cabin fever
A balanced libra, smash the beaver of some diva ass bashing Easter
In a Nascar speedster, my seat ain’t fastened either
Blasting heaters after basking in a bath of mad tequila
You see through ass about as potent as a half a zima
Smoking so many opponents, I’m choking from the emphysema
I feel like I’m half asleep in the land of dreamers, grand redeemer
Who came to remove the stain like Stanley Steamer
Fighting all them nightmares that appear as real
Wielding steel sharp enough that it will peel through shields
Pedal to the floor, ignoring the fear I feel
Grip so tight I leave fingerprint impressions on the steering wheel
Don’t get me wild, I chew through nails like a pedi-file
Then go and take the head of a pedophile
I made the Devil smile, ‘cause I’m going to Hell in style
On an Orange-County Chopper, Gehenna cycle
I got a special with a red dot, f*ck a vest I’m posing for the camera, so I’m sending head shots
Looking like the Ghost Rider when I blow by the rest stop
f*ck your fleet, we run these streets like Fred in Bedrock

And it’s all systems go
Pedal to the floor as if y'all didn’t know
And it’s full speed ahead, ‘bout to change the globe
That’s why my foes need me dead
(x2)

[Coal]
Strained by the crosses we tow
Demons feed off on every corpse that they grow
They eatin’ off of your souls
Pained by the losses we hold
With every thought we were told forced us to loathe until we’re lost and alone
Chains that have brought us below
And all the talk we uphold molds cohorts or draws more forks in the road
Stained by the loss of control
We’re too remorseless to bode or for a cost we beat the horse till it’s low
Flames that’ll scorch all we grow
To blowtorch our supports until it warps and burnt the fort till it’s smoke
Claimed that we offered them hope
Told them in water you can choke, so tryna float, then threw em off of the boat
No gain for the fortune we know
Instead of shame for the abortion were pro, no need for coffins below
Estranged in an orphanage home
Profanely fostered to a moan, they lead the child to a pedophile’s throne
Bread and defiled by Rome, warlocks get blown over bones
Catching dome in Vatican catacombs
Pagan maiden, mother and crone, witches are aided by an ancient unknown
As Carl Sagan had shown
Illumination occupation of home
Indoctrination, Freemasons of stone, building Lord Satan a home
Creation a whole nation of clones, we’ve grown and prone to succubus
Homunculus promised a wondrous tone

[Tabs]
Whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa, chill
What the f*ck are you doin’ bro?
This is my mixtape. This is not the Coal mixtape
(This is mine, this is my show.)
When we have the Coal mixtape you can go off, ‘cause right now, you’re just trying to make me look bad
(Now you’re just showing off)
And I don’t appreciate it, one, bit

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