Silent Night

Rodan - “Intro (Peri-G) / Wind Before the Storm” [Emcee(s): Rodan] [Producer(s): X-Ray Da Mindbenda] [Intro: Samples] [Sample from Conan the Barbarian (1982)] “Fire and wind come from the sky, from the gods of the sky. The gods forgot the secret of steel, and left it on the battlefield” - Conan’s Father [Sample from The Prophecy (1995)] “Did you ever notice how, in the Bible, whenever God needed to punish someone or make an example or whenever God needed a killing, he sent an angel? Did you ever wonder what a creature like that must be like? A whole existence spent praising your God, but always with one wing dipped in blood. Would you ever really want to see an angel?” - Thomas Daggett [Verse 1: Rodan] Jugular vein rap, journalism broadcast, Ed Begley On the mic, black-coal burning ‘em, Socrates shooting up Running through your veins like a dope fiend, cutting-edge microphone Sledgehammer through your smokescreen, combat wingtips Steel toes and bottles, sterling Silverado, jacked the lotto Stagecoach shift sands in the hourglass sponsored by Movado Break bread, Remy on the rocks, eyes bloodshot Red like tomatoes, or just ski as hoes from Whitney To Britney Spears backing bad rap, suffocate careers And shed no tears, celebrate a new millennium every day ‘Cause one day to me is equal to a thousand of y’all years. Relax in Virtual backdrops, pack Glocks in digital crack spots Big Brother biometric snapshots tried to shun God Used a stun card to zap cops, programmed hardware Raw blacktops, 5 mics from cyber critics with Macs and laptops—amen to these pop crackers. Fact: I’m blacker than average nigga, cross-pigmentation of America Go figure—cultural snipers squeeze the trigger. Respect Credit where it’s due, my wigger. Swinging a pipe with vigor Heart get bigger from every hand-to-hand rigor, plus nasty With gunplay, fucking a supermodel, stick a designer For his fashions on the runway, spin emcees Twenty-three degrees, six days a week, rest on the Sabbath, resume work On a Sunday. Multimillion-dollar street beggar Panhandling from the local corner bodega, got the game sewn From alpha to omega, never run a “No. 5” like Lou Bega Sell TECs and collect checks from bootleggers We do it after dark, lamppost plugged in, juiced-up Park cable, project silence for the projects. Nigga looking Sweet on the screen like Clark Gable, rolling with prime Crime elements, highly unstable. Hydrogen, tell Helium To tell Oxygen to save my seat at the periodic table [Hook: Rodan] Like the wind before the storm, Flightpope Ro’ set to blow Rule cyph’ divine, master eye circumference, let ‘em know It’s the wind before the storm, Flightpope Ro’ here to show Rule cyph’ divine, most intelligent: Czars blow-for-blow The wind before the storm, Flightpope Ro’ set to blow Rule cyph’ divine, master eye circumference, let ‘em know It’s the wind before the storm, Flightpope Ro’ here to show Rule cyph’ divine, most intelligent: Czars blow-for-blow [Verse 2: Rodan] Yo, these pencilnecks be spitting silly rhymes, allegedly living in The big willy times, but most you niggas are showing me is early Milli Vanilli signs. We could praise God and pass the ammunition For the MAC milli nines, go to war for real like ancient Israelites fighting and smiting the Philistines, accumulated Body count on the radio playlist, just another major label Plagiarist, puppet-string infringement, material is Strictly copywritten flavor shit spinning on my laser disc Train the mainstream to my voice like puppies enjoy bones Live in a Plexiglas castle and throw toy stones Stomping through your manufactured tough boy zones, sweet Cookie-cutter roster, assembly-line camp, employed clones Against my team, that’s like Mini-Me versus Roy Jones Writing creative, cathartic, artistic, fantastic shit Seek separation via synthesis through the smartest sar- -castic wit, stage through the jungle, knuckle figures tussle and fight Take flight by day, nocturnal monsters hunt and hustle All night, more than most, throw the Moët, superlative Adjectives, shitting on this whole industry using my M-I-C like A laxative, iron will and strong nerves, big dick For thong curves, getting brain from RnB songbirds Buffalo soldiers never cliquing with the wrong herds, candy bong Nerds, and choke niggas with long words—ask that hussy I Kept to stroking, long-lasting like Eveready, jewels dropping Like confetti, Glocks popping like Rock Steady, Led weapons Like Zeppelin, no half-stepping on the “Stairway to Heaven,” repping From the jail tears to the eddy in the Serengeti Dashikis and baggy jeans sagging, smoking Puff the Magic Dragon, jump the turnstile, riding on my own bandwagon Manifest Destiny or native people blood-spiller Protector of the truth or just another petty thug killer 40 to a brick in ‘96, become a bigger fiend, stay Addicted to nicotine—now who the real drug dealer? Motherfucker [Hook: Rodan] Like the wind before the storm, Flightpope Ro’ set to blow Rule cyph’ divine, master eye circumference, let ‘em know It’s the wind before the storm, Flightpope Ro’ here to show Rule cyph’ divine, most intelligent: Czars blow-for-blow The wind before the storm, Flightpope Ro’ set to blow Rule cyph’ divine, master eye circumference, let ‘em know It’s the wind before the storm, Flightpope Ro’ here to show Rule cyph’ divine, most intelligent: Czars blow-for-blow [Outro: Rodan] Sticking bitches in the mouth