Detroit - Bronze Nazareth

Yo, yo, turn my shit up a little bit, man

Yeah, like right there and shit

Yo, my impacts that fracture bones and pierce stones

Reports by Peter Jennings, on your desk when the sun arose

That’s deep like a fall from heaven, the call from your reverand

Stranded in Baghdad, aggressive as keg blast

Silent as sounds as thrusts from a shank stab

Move in waves like a puma’s shoulder blade

I amaze, I’m amazed, find your ways through the minor haze

Photographic chapters from a pall pit

Write on the walls of my mind, inside my skull pit

Piss cloudy like London skies, I wonder why

I don’t drive that jet black four five

Who can fuck with me on the table of elements

Hand me a mic and I’ll melt MC’s irrevelant

Tentaments and projects, throwing up my logo

I rhyme degrees equivalent to breathing an inferno

Slow burn, running dues and mics, my turn

I carry sound barriers, that’s none of your concern

I flip moods like nuns with guns, goons and good

The hero disposition, superhero with a hood

Battle the best of them, ignore the rest of them

Killed about a million MC’s, maybe less of 'em

Then my dogs taught me, cover my tracks

When it’s war time, with more rhymes, to counter attack

My word play, similar to shit in Iraq

Get blown off the map with no chance to fight back

Man down, chip a tooth biting my style

Had a lock the same before, yo kid, what’s up now?

I creep low, pull heat slow out with heat throw

I teach the seeds through you, leak if you need to

Proceed to build, far cathedrals where trees grew

My thoughts are jagged, slice helmets in Hebrew

I watch the hands turn, counter clockwise

So I can look back on the future and learn

I told you lines small as spines, jam knives, rush revolvers

I’m tough smothered in teflon marauders

A world’s mother, carry Atlas on my back

Throw a shank through your fuel tank, crash ya plane wax

Roots up, come through masked and blue truck

Still mashing, any shape, form or fashion

Outlasting, all those, that profile and pose

Like hoes, in the front row, of one of my shows

Phillie oh so, rapper slash hustler, kid

Ain’t a man alive touching the kid, get off that

And into some shit, trust me, I’m as ill as it get

Go for your guns, prepare to be crushed, trust none

I’m a man of many hats, black hoodies, no furs

Want a chaffeur that blow herb all on the curb

When the sun shine, I want mine, away from heaven

Spitting lazer beam schemes that’ll blind ya vision

My dividens, medallion cartel suited pipes

Don’t shoot the dice if you ain’t nice, follow the script

Rust Detroit, a warfield of concrete trenches

The bullet holes, ski masks and backdoor entrance

This is it, I wrote it, a poet lauriete

With a semi loaded tech, when I speak, rhymes eject

No love, but a slug, for these pussies, try’nna push me

Over the edge, and out of my head, pronounced head

But, we don’t die, we expand to foreign lands

Come back with rich for the fam, and break 'em down in grams

For the street team, loyalty, guns and roses

To hand out the casaulties of war, we soldiers

Full of that hydro smoke, it’s over

With gats going brat-brrr-rat, where ya killas at?