The difference between MCs and rappers
Rapper's clocks count forward, MC's clocks count backwards
I count down as I climb up the mountain of sound
I see the ground but I have no use for it now
So I carved my C into the ground, then free-fall into the clouds
People are proud of this lyrical style
You have no use for a crown when you’re spiritually endowed
Permission to walk the property? Not allowed to leave the grounds
You are surrounded by darkness for thousands of miles
The Sasquatch, how? all you got is rock salt rounds
The bugle sounds, “Ouch”, get up, get out
Three in, three out, Gestapo move house to house
S.S. fresh Sharp Shooters, it’s a twelve round bout
Anyway that you wanna do it, I know it all sounds foolish
But this is music to Anubis
The keen ears of a jackal in the jaws of Judas, absolutely ruthless
A mid-matured disappointment, no he’s not don’t be stupid
And inconclusive to think he’s only abusive to rap music
The hubris of normal humans tryna' see through it
Translucent future is magic mushroom kit acoustic
You rocking with the two/too illest to spit
Respect it if you feel the lyrics and you feelin' this shit
Stand beside 'em, nothing is superior to silence
So much knowledge, the n***a’s so modest
My Hip-Hop forefathers tortured warmongers
No more promise just show homage
The parable about the coal and the diamond we heard all that before
So stop it, this is Hip-Hop logic
Sick to the bone, Bis still spitting like a n***a in his zone
N***as think they spitting with a clone
Captain Cold Crush rhyme with Frenchie the co-pilot
‘Bout to fly all out of this, if I crash it I’ll salvage it
Five point harness seat belt, how that g-force feel?
Knowledge of self is an admission of guilt
Yes I’m high, but altitude doesn’t apply
Don’t ask why shamanism rhymes blind the naked eye
Deliberately exaggerated fine, alarm clocks chime
I took it all the way to the gold line
Shoot the power in the rhymes
The old head remembers how he used to be in his prime
He was too ill then, and he’s too ill now, so he don’t want no ground
Just a place to sit down so the homey can spit now
Yo Frenchi, how it's going down? Show ‘em how
Hold it down, Canibus'll be around, but you the future now