Zealots

Another MC lose his life tonight  lord
I beg that you pray to Jesus Christ  why
O lord  father don't let him bury me  whoa
I haunt MC's like Mephistophales
Bringin swords and Damacles
Secret service keep a close watch as if my name was Kennedy
Abstract raps simple with a street format
Gaze into the sky and measure planets by parallax
Check out the retrograde motion  kill the notion
Of biting and recycling and calling it your own creation
I Feel like Rockwell  "Somebody's watching me"
I got no privacy whether on land or at sea
And for you biting zealots  your raps are cacophonic
Hypocrit  critic  but deep inside you wish you had the pop hit
It hurts don't it  the refugees come to your turf and take over
The earth
See my rhymes are the type of fly rhymes
That can only get down with my crew
And if you try to take lines or bite rhymes
We'll show you how the refugees do
Behold  as my odes  manifold on your rhymes
Two MC's can't occupy the same space at the same time
It's against the laws of Physics
So weep as your sweet dreams break up like Eurythmics
Rap rejects my tape deck  ejects projectile
Whether jew or gentile
I rank top percentile
Many styles
More powerful than gamma rays
My grammar pays
Like Carlos Sanatana plays
Black Magic Woman
So while you fuming  I'm consuming
Mango juice under Polaris
You're just embarrassed
Cause it's your "Last Tango in Paris"
And even after all my logic and my theory
I add a muthaf**kker so you ignint niggas hear me
And you remember take notes
As I sow my rap otas
And for you biting zealots  here's a quote
Another MC lose his life tonight  lord
I beg that you pray to Jesus Christ  why
O lord  father don't let him bury me  whoa
You can try but you can't divide the tri
These cats can't rap  Mr  Author I feel no Vibe
The magazine says the girl should have gone solo
The guys should stop rapping  vanish like Menudo
Took it to the heart  but every actor plays his part
As long as someone was listening  I knew it was a start
For me to get a chance  grab my pen and revamp
Do a cameo while everybody do the dance
Quick now  cause you runnin' out of lucka
Playin' Mr  Big  I'm gonna get you sucka
While you munchin at your luncheon  I'll be planning your
Assassination
Then hit you like the Dutchmen
I compress sound sets with my rap DBX
Then drop vocals on my 456 AMPEX
Bring terror to the shop of horror
As she cries "Mi amor"
The phantom dies in the opera
And to the youngin's who carry gadgets
And kill 6 days a week then rest on the Sabbath
Violence ain't necessary  unless you provoke me
Then get buried like the great Mussolini
And for you bitin' Zealots
Your rap styles are relics
No matter who you damage
Your still a false prophet
Another MC lose his life tonight  lord
I beg that you pray to Jesus Christ  why
O lord  father don't let him bury me