It’s high voltage you can’t shake the shock Because nobody wants it to stop, check it out (4x)
I’ve been taking into crates ever since I was livin’ in space Before the rat-race, before monkeys had human traits Mastered numerology and big-bang theology Preformed lobotomies with telekinetic psychology Invented the mic so I start blessin’ it And chin-checkin’ kids to make my point like an impressionist Many men have tried to shake us But I twist mic cords to double helixes and show them what I’m made of I buckle knees like leg braces Cast the spell of instrumental-ness and all of the emcees that hate us So try on, leave you without a shoulder to cry on From now to infinity let icons be bygones I fire bomb ghostly notes haunt this I’ve tried threats but moved on to a promise I stomp shit with or without an accomplish (Mixed media) The stamp of approval is on this
Chorus (2x)
Akira, put a kink in the backbones of clones with microphones Never satisfy my rhyme jones Sprayin’ bright day over what you might say Blood type carillon Technicolor type A On highways with road rage I’m patient to win The cage and the tin to bounce all around In surround sound devouring the scene Subliminal gangrene paintings Overall the same things sing songs karaoke copy madness Break bones verbally to sticks and stone tactics Fourth dimension, combat convention Write rhymes at ease while the tracks stand at attention (Attention) Meant to put you away with the pencil Pistol, official, 16 line rhyme missile Why you risk it all, I pick out of your flaws Spin, blah-blah-blah-blah You can say you saw