I've been digging in the crates ever since I was living in space
Before the rat race,
before monkeys had human traits
I mastered numerology,
big band theology,
performed lobotomies with telekinetic psychology
Invented the mic so I can start blessing it
Chin-checkin' kids to make my point like an impressionist
Many men have tried to shake us
But I twist mic chords to double helixes to show them what I'm made of
I buckle knees like leg braces
cast a spell of instrumental-ness on all of you emcees who hate us
So you can try on, leave you without a shoulder to cry on
From now to infinite, let icon be bygones
I fire bombs, ghostly notes haunt this
I tried threats,
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