It’s the dawn of a new civilization. If you just go outside and smell, you can inhale the hell of the wicked regime that fell. There will be no light at the end of the tunnel. The tunnel will crumble. The wolf will be consumed by the jungle. Now look what it’s come to—cultural warfare, militaristic slick shit, viral propaganda while conspiracy theories are dismissed. I’m going ballistic. The projectiles of my Malcolm X style is what makes me into a mystic, or maybe you missed it

[Verse 1: Honey B]
Don’t embrace the struggle, embrace the hustle
Let’s take impossible to another level
I’m killing the lyrical, you feel me in spiritual
I don’t call it a verse
Words is my vehicle, I call it a hearse
Soul and holy spirit, inside my flow and lyrics
I’m anointed, I’ve been gifted, yeah I know you hear it
Deny it, try to control it and steer it
I’m blessed see, a descendent of black queens they tell you is slaves
You break your back, they the one getting paid
They burn the book so you can’t read a page, nah
You’re running scared so you go get a gun
Change gon’ come, the lame gon’ run
The deaf will hear, the blind see clear
And the time is near, you hear the clock strike
You keeping watch, right? We fight at first light
It’s live or lose you life, so pick the right side
Pick the right side, ay pick the right side

[Verse 2: E Snipe]
I’m a classy rap extraordinaire
Your girl like me, I know it ‘cause I could her stare
You never shoulda brought her here
See what I do to the track ain’t even sorta fair
Nowaday these rappers wear the same thing my daughter wear
Y’all really don’t know
If y’all assume that this native of Philly won’t go
Off on this beat like it’s a black teen and I’m a white cop
I killed this beat in a car at the light-stop
Damn, now how is that for a metaphor?
In this game of life we live, I’m tryna get a better score
I’m tryna marry me a Michelle or Coretta or
Even a Beyonce, so my next fiancé
Will be about the revolutionary action
That transcends her beauty and her physical attraction
I need the type of girl that believe Garvey
Not the type of girl who wanna see Steve Harvey
My ex said that I was way too deep
I brushed it off and told her, “It’s ok, you sleep”
And I’m awake like I’m a rooster and it’s sunset
I’m just tryna make sure that my daughter and my son set
See I ain’t done yet, I’m just beginning
I hear a beat by O. Savant and just be penning
The type of lyrics guaranteed to wake the dead
You hear me spit a bar and cannot help but shake your head
‘cause there is no denying that I got these flows
Spit hotter than a dragon eating hot Cheetos
I heard those mumble rappers, I cannot be those
An extraordinary emcee, that’s a spot E chose
I was born to be this
Been doing this since Run was putting on Adidas
Been doing this since Big Daddy Kane fought those AIDS rumors
I’m hip-hop kill Kangols and suede Pumas
Yup, that’s my word to L
Telling me to spit is like telling a turd to smell
Is automatic, came out swinging when I heard the bell
I succeed ‘cause it never ever occurred to fail
[Verse 3: O'hene Savant]
It was a stick up, but only to the people stuck up
You didn’t get that? Do me a favor, shut the fuck up
Pay attention ‘cause I ain’t repeating myself
Some of you spit on a track, I am relieving myself
Out of the East Illadelph
Soldier that’s blowing open the culture
The culprit at killing vultures, expose it and take it over
While J. Edgar Hova was baking his baking soda
Making dope doper, I was the one that told him be sober
My rap thoughts put me in areas of elite folk
But I’m blackballed like a Nigerian gettin’ chemo
A predecessor to the musical rapper that’s emo
East Coast griot, Gold Coast Premo
Y’all on the d though, I’m Ochocinco
I’m oh so special like [?] theme song
With no gold rings on or rocks when I appear
No option, my competition they know not to interfere
I’ll hypnotize you and leave you rotten in a chair
Made of metal so you can’t put the cotton in your ear
This cat’s flier than a lion, that’s flier than a Lear
That’s as high as any pilot with a [?] in the air
Coulda penned it in Kemet with papyrus in the lair
But either way I’m guided by Osiris up in here
I’m a monster with a very sick mantra
Sipping Monsters, you a little bitch rapper and a romper
Don’t compare big tractor to a Tonka
And I don’t give a fuck who you signed to
I don’t give a fuck about the concerts you lined up
Or how many times your album was streamed
Time’s up