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letra de universal soldier - j a y e l e c t r o n i c a

[interlude]
this is the gallant crew that rolled the big superfort, which carried the first atomic bomb to j-pan
piloted by colonel paul tibbets jr. of miami
carrying navy captain william parsons of chicago, who helped design the bomb, as observer
and major thomas ferebee of mocksville, north carolina, who pulled the plug on hiroshima
the b-29 dropped its load of atomic death, which exploded with a force equal to 20,000 tons of tnt

[intro: j a y e l e c t r o n i c a]
bismillah (bismillah)
bismillah (bismillah)
(a’oodhu billaahi) a’oodhu billaahi min al-shaytaan ir-rajeem
bismillah (bismillah)
ashadu an lâ ilâha illa-llâhwa
ashadu ana muhammad rasûl allâh

[verse 1: j a y e l e c t r o n i c a]
the sun of slave, true i started out as peasant (uh-uh)
that’s why i build my temple like solomon in the desert (uh-uh)
the lord is my rock, i speed dial through salaat
my trials in the fire, [?] made me hot
i glow like them [?] with a touch of gold
my mathematical theology of rhymin’, touch the soul
i spent many night, bent off woods
clutchin’ the bowl, stuffin’ my nose
some of the cons, i suffer from prose
my poetry’s livin’ like the god that i fall back on
and all praises due to allah, for such a l-strious platform
the teachers of the abu, elijah, muhammad’s my back bone
when i spit the children on the mothership, bow on a platform
[?] the true history of jesus comin’ to age
i wore a ski mask and glove through the masquerade
uh, i got the roc on my shoulder (it’s the roc)
somebody should’ve told you, i’m a motherf-ckin’ universal soldier

[verse 2: jay-z]
back when emory jones was catchin’ the fed charge
i knew less about who chase ’em all
although i’m pablo escobar
thinkin’ i was the last one, allah would lay his blessings on
i was tryna not to end up like tony in the restaurant
now i’m general the [?] on me
what don’t k!ll us make us stronger, that’s nietzsche on me
hot boy like i’m bg, that fidji on me
we done duck them fed charges, now we eatin’ comfy
[?]
that guilt trip ain’t gon’ work, don’t put your luggage on we
you ain’t keep the same energy for the [?]
we was in your cotton fields now we sippin’ on these, only

[outro]
save my soul
save me from myself
save my soul

- j a y e l e c t r o n i c a

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