It’s high voltage you can’t shake the shock
Because nobody wants it to stop, check it out (4x)
I’ve been taking into crates ever since I was livin’ in space
Before the rat-race, before monkeys had human traits
Mastered numerology and big-bang theology
Preformed lobotomies with telekinetic psychology
Invented the mic so I start blessin’ it
And chin-checkin’ kids to make my point like an impressionist
Many men have tried to shake us
But I twist mic cords to double helixes and show them what I’m made of
I buckle knees like leg braces
Cast the spell of instrumental-ness and all of the emcees that hate us
So try on, leave you without a shoulder to cry on
From now to infinity let icons be bygones
I fire bomb ghostly notes haunt this
I’ve tried threats but moved on to a promise
I stomp shit with or without an accomplish
(Mixed media)
The stamp of approval is on this
Chorus (2x)
Akira, put a kink in the backbones of clones with microphones
Never satisfy my rhyme jones
Sprayin’ bright day over what you might say
Blood type carillon
Technicolor type A
On highways with road rage I’m patient to win
The cage and the tin to bounce all around
In surround sound devouring the scene
Subliminal gangrene paintings
Overall the same things sing songs karaoke copy madness
Break bones verbally to sticks and stone tactics
Fourth dimension, combat convention
Write rhymes at ease while the tracks stand at attention (Attention)
Meant to put you away with the pencil
Pistol, official, 16 line rhyme missile
Why you risk it all, I pick out of your flaws
Spin, blah-blah-blah-blah
You can say you saw
