“Monsieur le juge, ce cahier contient des notes rédigées… J’attire votre attention sur les changements spectaculaires de style d’écriture, de ton et de point de vue. Ce que vous avez sous les yeux, ce sont les pensées intimes de plusieurs personnalités différentes. Si vous me permettez, quelques explications … merci”
Your honour, this notebook contains written notes… Notice the spectacular changes of writing style, of tone, and of opinions. What you have in front of your eyes are intimate thoughts of many different personalities. If you’ll allow me to explain, thank you.
[Verse 1: Vinnie Paz]
I’ll lick a shot in the sky, a war dawn, y’all gone, cousin Optimus Prime You a bitch, one of seven hundred Solomon’s wives I was in Constantinople during Ottoman’s shine My Glock is a nine, my .38 Wesson a beautiful bitch You rhyme like a ho find a more suitable pitch You about to find out why German Lugers exist Dig a hole, bury yourself, beautiful ditch It ain’t a single man living can fuck with the beast Gay rapper altar boy, you fucking the priest Fuck a cop dirty pig, we bucking police Dirtbag can’t make money, he’s stuck in the streets
[Verse 2: Planetary]
What you think? I’m sitting in this cage for nothing If they release me it’s curtains, that’s why I live in the dungeon All black, nothing lit up, I set up walls And hang bodies that I hit up, can’t fit us all Warchild got machetes with old blood on the tip Paz sitting with artillery to blow you to bits Shit, King Syze with the get-away All-black Yukon, shoes on everything Gunplay nowadays more frequent More real niggas mad falling off the deep end And your life depends on me I ice out the whole joint and put your men on freeze
[Chorus: Planetary]
Start a riot in here, now who with me? Who the fuck gonna ride when the shit gets shifty? Where my niggas at? I know who ride with me This Pharaoh shit for life, they gonna die right with me
Start a riot in here, now who with me? Who the fuck gonna ride when the shit gets shifty? Where my niggas at? I know who ride with me This Pharaoh shit for life, they gonna die right with me
[Verse 3: Celph Titled]
Spur of the moment I could strike with a strategic blow I hold the heaters low and ground you up inside a pita roll Explosive botanist, obvious that I plant bombs I stand out in crowds like I got fluorescent pants on Satanic candles lit in my recording room I’m making hits singing songs on death in autotune Put a bear trap on your ankle, drop you off at Footlocker Mug the manager like what the fuck’s popping? Punks dropping while I stand tall You see me, you’ve seen the greatest rapper, modern man’s fall Electric meat shaver, that’s a modern man’s saw Precision chop limbs after I bodyslam y’all
[Verse 4: Apathy]
Hands off, body chopper, bloody opera singer Satan’s trigger finger, rock the bells in Hell, call me a dead ringer Freddy Kruger sweater rocker, Beretta cocker I dead a copper, head to Czechoslovakia before they spot me on security cams My maturity shows when I take these young rappers and I murder their flows Including Weezys and Jeezys, if I had a genie I’d make major label rappers Ice Cubes and Eazys Monster with the freeze when I’m conquering MCs I be airing rappers out like I’m sponsored by Febreeze If you stop to get some Zs I just haunt you in your dreams Smuggle yey from Medellín and vacation in Belize