There were ten fingers on my hands, now I got seven
A New World Order was established when Illuminati fucked up the towers on 9/11
Walking the hood with yo‘ glock loaded is like dancing with devil
I fucking spit razors I took political rap to a higher level
My knowledge goes from the Star Wars back to Devon
Like David writing psalms I lay my own lines in a dirty cavern
I’ m a hot head, my rhymes cut throats with metaphors and similes
They call me the God MC like Rakim, the Spitter, the Lyricist
My street cred is greed fed, I’ m a wrong cat to fuck with
I got the detonators from Pentagon, I got the gun they smoked Pac with
My voice is black and my breath is hot like I drink from tar pits
And my art is misinterpreted like Qu’ ran prophets
I aint no drug dealer, I don’ t boast with a fabulous car
But you feel me around the corner, you sense that I’ m a dangerous guy
When I open my mouth I chop heads off like when Canibus rhyme
I’ m bound to the projects, I feel it’ s a venomous tie