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letra de illusionati - payday monsanto

“pull the wool up from ‘ya eyes”

“ca-ca-cause they’re comin’ to getcha”

you think these clowns original?
i think these clowns is pitiful…
genocide rap’s invisible…
and, this year right here is critical…

the industry is a joke, rap music is a sham, r&b b-tches liftin’ up their britches for a gram. hip-hop’s not on the radio, understand, hip-hop got murdered by the pop program. you’ve been overstimulated by gimmicks, and b-tches naked, and m-th-f-ckas who mimic some suckas, who imitated, the legends who innovated, the lessons that demonstrated, the devils’ who instigated, the question has been evaded. you think you’re so spectacular, ’cause you bit some clown’s vernacular? you let jewelry bedazzle ‘ya, they sucked your blood like dracula. children play games, they shootin’ y’all, they think these emcees are superstars, controlled by saturn & jupiter, that’s baphomet & lucifer…

you don’t wanna be in the vicinity, when my mind spray, if you’re not an honor-roll graduate of john jay. ever since you let ’em allocate your time, they got you f-ggots under hypnosis, deeper than kanye. the blonde way, the take control of your mind way, the mk-ultra your culture, divine way. i’ve been around the bubble, from honolulu to bombay, never will i ever throw another pearl a swine’s way. light up your pig-pen, like pompeii, i’ll make you choke on your microwavable entrée. the television is tellin’ ’em petty-crime pay, i ready-aim, and give ’em heavy flames like dante. this beat is 12 years old, i made it my way, way before you heard of ashanti, or beyoncé. you don’t need n0body to make you look crazy, you’re certifiable ‘kook, by a book, baby…

they got you worshipin’ satan, right now…
you know you’re really worshipin’ satan, right now…
they got you worshipin’ satan, right now…
why you worshipin’ the devil, right now?
they got you worshipin’ satan, right now…
you know you’re really worshipin’ satan, right now…
they got you worshipin’ satan, right now…
why you worshipin’ the devil, right now?
hold up, it went took far, american church of the superstar, i don’t want hott clothes, baby y’all hoes-clothes, ain’t gonna getcha into heaven, naw. (naw) his rhyme ain’t no two-timin’ (timin’) payday kick-kick tha knowledge, hazel try’n ‘ta keep ‘ya conscious, the m-th-f-ckin’ revelation upon us. the deep rig, elite keep ‘ya sleepin’, we are all gods, and the earth is heathen. the hip-hop stars are bloodsuckin’ cretins, y’all give up your soul to demons. demonic agenda, give up your will, and surrender, and pull the wool up from your eyes, ’cause they comin’ to getcha. we ain’t lyin’, they controllin’ ‘ya mind, you ain’t gotta be illumined to shine…

wake up, you’re worshipin’ the devil…
wake up, you’re worshipin’ the devil…
they got you worshipin’ the devil… naw, naw, naw…

wake up, you’re worshipin’ the devil…
they got you worshipin ‘the devil…

- payday monsanto

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