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letra de the truth (prod. rabbi rosenbloom) - judas


time keeps slipping, but i don’t give a sh-t
i’m a gold lyricist, i hope that hov hears me spit
golden globe trotter, even the bold fear this piff
my soul gold. third eye zoned, like ab-soul feelin’ lit
snack bar after bar, i eat you clones like calzones
i’m unknown, so far, but what’s that tune in your dome?
it’s i against i, physical matter aside
i’m gonna rhyme as it coincides with my flow divine
my whole goal’s blown like the ozone in the sky
so i hold hope inside that you fold in decline
it’s sublime i’m refined to exceed your weak tantalus reach
you tried to cut the web as the tarantulas preached
pray with buddha, ’cause all of y’all arachnids about to get cleaved
gettin’ rid of you stains as if i’m handlin’ bleach
spit these flames, i ain’t no amateur beast
you hazardous fat cat b-st-rds
i’m a master mc, let the rat get its cheese
you’d rather cram a gram worth of xanax and ram it in your casket off the planet faster than planned. in fact i’m the spastic, cl-ss and drastic acting rap addict and i’ve had it. ain’t no imp-sse, a cl-ssic. god d-mn it
jonah cb, yeah, i’m the rap louis pasteur
i’ll blast ya, twist backwards and crack your back
an attack from the krakken
what’s crackin’?
i lack the whack sh-t that you’re jackin’, and i’m not done rappin’
see, kanye west said the midwest was restless
he was steering clear of calling it the best sh-t
your best rip was half of my test hit, collect this
y’all less defenseless with this sense relentless
i got no closed doors and no fence sans entrance
yeah, that’s french, b-tch
ain’t i pretentious?
but no less relentless
my penchant for erudition, with no suspicion, keeps me livin,’ day trippin’, enlightened citizen
i’m writin’ to ignite the prime meridian, i’m flippin’ meticulous writtens, like when i write, ain’t hard to think of them
i’mma fine you for that tweak weak sh-t again, my ice bars made your “nice” cars slip again
metaphors? i’m f-ckin’ fl!ckin’ them as i’m f-ckin’ livin’, d-mn
i’m hannibal, you think that’s a can-a-bull
but you can’t handle these mandibles
when i preach, spit, my speech it’s understandable
grab a pull of that jack… and then we swig it
no diggity noise, the kind that makes you dig wit’ it
probably never earn like six digits
but my lip’s crimson, ’cause i bite that cypher like six triggers, i’m six figures
i snapped your padlock with some chalk and blue scissors
loose leaf scripture
infused with music to produce a new picture
nonfiction for the clueless
i made a muse out the muted
so i could induce their two cents, new sh-t
my influence, the truancy that my cool crew cruise with

(hook x3)
the truth hits the roof when the youth are aloof
so settle down, children, and listen to the proof

we may be lost souls
slippin’ away with every pull
but lost ain’t dead and our hearts are still in bold