Soul Shinobi, Kalki - 11 Soul Strike (Prod. by Soul Shinobi) | Текст песни

• Тексты песен
• Soul Shinobi, Kalki
• 11 Soul Strike (Prod. by Soul Shinobi)

I strike souls with my sword,
I am a cold lord
You will not see me coming,
I’ve warned you a hundred times
Till there’s knots in my stomach
you never listened,
you just scorned & shunned my mind
I’ll sever your glistening necks
From their reptilian flesh,
killing is a blessing
with my skills as a lesson,
I will not punish
I’ll bless those that run towards me with swords
Stun these hordes with swiftness
As they all witness the mystic powers
I split & devour them
Then shower them with gems at the hour’s end
Cowards in sin cower instantly
It’s been like this since the beginning of Times
With the Big Bang endlessly shining
We exude Light from within
Why would you strike your kin
If you can rebirth them instead
Those that curse & dread me
Get versed in lectures
Like the first & the Second Comings
I’m blessed with stunning attributes
I’m stunningly past you
I’m a cunning & masterful youth
I graze grass in the pastures of Truth
I’m blasting the booth
With supersonic articles
Mnemonically audible
Sonnets laudable
From the prodigal son
Prodigy from the Sun
I’m hydrogen powered
Photonically spun
Blinding men with showers
Chiming them till they cower in fear
When the hour is near
I’m a powerful spear in God’s hand
Endowed with clairvoyance of the Lord’s plans
I bow in the presence of divinity
from now till the Heavens’ infinity
Symphonies of legend are hemmed
through the synergy of brethren
& sistren in symmetry
Get lifted instantlyLike spliffs of sensimi
From a different density
I was listed as Enki
in forgotten times
Desist in your tendencies
If you mock my rhymes
I will blot your shine
With a supernova explosion
My soul was corroded in the past
But now I’m growing bolder & vaster
Like Vast Aire, you should be past scared
If you’ve plotted my demise
You’ll be distraught by my eyes’ gaze alone
Dazed by my poems
that’re amazing omens
If you thought you tricked me
I tricked you back,
I’m a Trickster to the wicked masses
when I spit you tracks
I gift you with the blackness inside you
Till you reckon it
Hear it beckoning
It’s festering within
So I heal it with oestrogen’s kin
Patriarchal constituents
don’t bless you in sin
It’s best that you end
this deluded thought
The food I brought you
Is to duly foster your soul’s development
Boldly relish these scrolls
& tell it to those in Hellish abodes
Don’t sell it for gold

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