Call of the Gods (Explicit)

Call of the Gods (众神欢呼) - Buddha Monk/Ol' Dirty Bastard
You're savage wit below average non-solicited liquid cabbage
I blast quick televise it to those minds that's celebrate
Now document it on this day zu's gospel written
Yo Buddha I can hear you
Like Adam and eve where all fruit were forbidden
Sounds travels 1 123 feet per second
Enter my perimeter I'm a destroy all you sinners
Wrap around you like anaconda now ya voice box becomes volume
Test this bless this it's priceless
God cipher divine 5% I represent
Nation of gods and earths seeds original first
Sun moon and stars original black gods
Sixteen shades'll show and prove who you are
Sixteen gold basically when you were stole
Bought and sold and tossed all over the f**king globe
I won't fold better breathe just like ya cold
Six hundred years of yakub's 'fro matter
Motion and speed grafted seed break the spleen
If thirteen men enter the battle Manchu Mongolians
My evil forces within would tell me to kill again
You're savage below average non-solicited liquid cabbage
I blast quick televise it to those minds that's celebrate
Now document it on this day zu's gospel written
Like Adam and eve where all fruit were forbidden
Enter my perimeter I'm a destroy all you sinners
Wrap around you like anaconda now ya voice box becomes volume
I blaze tracks like lightning sh*t's frightening
I get hype just from the talk of fighting
Buddha monk manchuz B K plus the zu
Now who's gonna win this battle here I say you
There's your anti-thoughts though I see you fought slow
My motto get gold then f**k a ho
We got this sh*t locked yeah all in a smash
You get in the way feel the mega-ton blast ni**a
It started when them cats came back from the cave ni**a
Used to be slave ni**a now I'm brave ni**a
Hanging with gravediggaz and two gold triggers
Time to realize a mind body and soul is bigger
Got styles and miles of a new jersey drive
Pierce like syringes If it's war yo I'm in the trenches
Public enemy  1 hit the bank job done
On the run from c-cypher still serve pipers
Later that night I hit the club flick my Bic
Pick a chick I could creep with my life in containment
Still sell drugs with three arraignments
F**k it street money po-po blocking it
Gotta build legal conglomerates ain't no stopping it
Gotta feed and educate the babies
So I run rabid like rabies
Niggas can't f**k with my Grammy
If I was a b**ch I'd be a bad mamajama
Your music sounds like loops of fruit kicks dissolve
808 sore six doors American tale feeble calls
Was west pray to the east the sun don't rise plant ya feet
We eat ground turkey meat carnivore was tranqued
Original peach tree
Drunk-a** poetry in the clouds style
Zu assassins duck-lo quietly strategy outburst violently
Finitely Brooklyn displays how it was tooken
Tracks is utensils niggas stencil art
In war paint and perimeter was an open lane
Intoxicated blows is rugged like fatigue wearing hoes
Yo pick your play action
You get in the way feel the mega-ton blast ni**a
I cross ya a** like a sodomite in pale moon light
Cruz to me ya all sounding like b**ches on the mic
It's official verbal pistol ripping ya bone gristle
Invisible move like stealth missiles undetected
Catch it If ya can man listen sh*t is getting hot in my kitchen
Baking lots of chicken
With lord Buddha monk kicking a can of a**-whippings
It's a barbecue with ol' dirt and the zu bring the l- Iq
We gon' drink 'til we drop smoke pot from the finest w**d spot
You need not act like you insane I spit flames
Shame the devil and the demons in ya brain
Yo your raps brought back negative feedback
My mind explores at where your inhibitions is lost at
I sour tracks win beats flip through loops
I'm with an ace even If my style threw a deuce
I teach the truth to the youth
Before you should attack your central nerve system
Leaving brain damage and addiction
Through forced lyrical infliction reality's what you missing
Baby do you remember me from follow me
Just I-cee-equality with these thoughts
I leave explosions overdosing off the lord's potions
Got some sh*t delf-defined some sh*t I won't mention
You don't need to be trying
Make fake rappers don't wanna-be's
B**ches 'tract to the wacky meat
With this ghetto fashion actual faction
Beats flashing style fly like Jane flashing
Flows clashing holding this mic triangular
Freestyle strangler baby
Yo y'all muthaf**kas step y'all sh*t up