It's the message in the song that makes you rock on
Some people go to places where they don't belong
Whether wrong or right, a lot of people fight
But I'm here to bless this mic, aight? 

Verse one: [bad word] 
I take action the minute that the crowd gets hype
I'm type crashin, down like a meteorite
I'm bogart-ing, mics and whole stages
Destroying mc's dreams, from words to whole pages
Their rapbooks, look more like scrapbooks
With their fictional fairytales and frail [bad word] hooks
lot of [bad word] has happened, since I started rappin
There's been enough beef, and enough gat clappin
There's been mad signs, for this brother to heed
And while some choose greed, I choose to plant seeds
For your mental, spirit and physical temple
Bob your head to it, there's the water you've been lead to it
Bathe in it, a long time you've been cravin it
Prance to it, use your third eye and glance through it
Your state of being, [bad word] advanced through it
While others rhyme with no reason I be breezin
Their mics I seize them, then I try em for treason
I used to always like to hang out
Now I lounge in the rest writin bombs while tracks bang out
I know you peeped me in the club then
But now I'm in your speaker, with the voice that you're lovin
 [bad word] 
Verse two: [bad word] 
Peace to the young ladies, who wanna bone me much
And peace to my [bad word] premier, with the golden touch
I never fall off point, like deniro in casino
Peace to black gambinos and all my peoples
Dig the steelo -- I'm fightin wars you know
As in the jihad, most humble, most merciful
That's because I be god, I trog through fogs, puffing logs
Mc's muttering menial madness, they get mobbed
Scarred and barred, and then, banished from my [bad word] kingdom
You got a fly one bring one, or else [bad word] to fling some
Exquisite exotic exciting type [bad word] Enough to make the real heads wake up and get hype quick
I'm type slick, known as the God universal
Kick rhymes without rehearsal, I cross the burnin sands
Now I stand here with virtue, of course I could hurt you
Simply with my point of view, and I knew
That many [bad word]  that's why I've chosen
To cut off pathways, and there's [bad word] or doorways open
For the jokers who ain't focused
And all the fake mercenaries get buried by the tongue of terrifying fury
Nothing's blurry, [bad word] it I got no worries
Hearts and minds, shine bright light with insight
Yeah sense my birthright to set up cyphers with power
Cause mad [bad word] ain't right, like punks in the spotlight
Who can't freestyle, sometimes I make my peeps smile
By sayin somethin crazy wild
Like some [bad word] off my dome, that be soundin
Better than the next man's whole album...