Clock Strikes With Lyrics

It’s the dawn of a new civilization. If you just go outside and smell, you can inhale the hell of the wicked regime that fell. There will be no light at the end of the tunnel. The tunnel will crumble. The wolf will be consumed by the jungle. Now look what it’s come to—cultural warfare, militaristic slick shit, viral propaganda while conspiracy theories are dismissed. I’m going ballistic. The projectiles of my Malcolm X style is what makes me into a mystic, or maybe you missed it [Verse 1: Honey B] Don’t embrace the struggle, embrace the hustle Let’s take impossible to another level I’m killing the lyrical, you feel me in spiritual I don’t call it a verse Words is my vehicle, I call it a hearse Soul and holy spirit, inside my flow and lyrics I’m anointed, I’ve been gifted, yeah I know you hear it Deny it, try to control it and steer it I’m blessed see, a descendent of black queens they tell you is slaves You break your back, they the one getting paid They burn the book so you can’t read a page, nah You’re running scared so you go get a gun Change gon’ come, the lame gon’ run The deaf will hear, the blind see clear And the time is near, you hear the clock strike You keeping watch, right? We fight at first light It’s live or lose you life, so pick the right side Pick the right side, ay pick the right side [Verse 2: E Snipe] I’m a classy rap extraordinaire Your girl like me, I know it ‘cause I could her stare You never shoulda brought her here See what I do to the track ain’t even sorta fair Nowaday these rappers wear the same thing my daughter wear Y’all really don’t know If y’all assume that this native of Philly won’t go Off on this beat like it’s a black teen and I’m a white cop I killed this beat in a car at the light-stop Damn, now how is that for a metaphor? In this game of life we live, I’m tryna get a better score I’m tryna marry me a Michelle or Coretta or Even a Beyonce, so my next fiancé Will be about the revolutionary action That transcends her beauty and her physical attraction I need the type of girl that believe Garvey Not the type of girl who wanna see Steve Harvey My ex said that I was way too deep I brushed it off and told her, “It’s ok, you sleep” And I’m awake like I’m a rooster and it’s sunset I’m just tryna make sure that my daughter and my son set See I ain’t done yet, I’m just beginning I hear a beat by O. Savant and just be penning The type of lyrics guaranteed to wake the dead You hear me spit a bar and cannot help but shake your head ‘cause there is no denying that I got these flows Spit hotter than a dragon eating hot Cheetos I heard those mumble rappers, I cannot be those An extraordinary emcee, that’s a spot E chose I was born to be this Been doing this since Run was putting on Adidas Been doing this since Big Daddy Kane fought those AIDS rumors I’m hip-hop kill Kangols and suede Pumas Yup, that’s my word to L Telling me to spit is like telling a turd to smell Is automatic, came out swinging when I heard the bell I succeed ‘cause it never ever occurred to fail [Verse 3: O'hene Savant] It was a stick up, but only to the people stuck up You didn’t get that? Do me a favor, shut the fuck up Pay attention ‘cause I ain’t repeating myself Some of you spit on a track, I am relieving myself Out of the East Illadelph Soldier that’s blowing open the culture The culprit at killing vultures, expose it and take it over While J. Edgar Hova was baking his baking soda Making dope doper, I was the one that told him be sober My rap thoughts put me in areas of elite folk But I’m blackballed like a Nigerian gettin’ chemo A predecessor to the musical rapper that’s emo East Coast griot, Gold Coast Premo Y’all on the d though, I’m Ochocinco I’m oh so special like [?] theme song With no gold rings on or rocks when I appear No option, my competition they know not to interfere I’ll hypnotize you and leave you rotten in a chair Made of metal so you can’t put the cotton in your ear This cat’s flier than a lion, that’s flier than a Lear That’s as high as any pilot with a [?] in the air Coulda penned it in Kemet with papyrus in the lair But either way I’m guided by Osiris up in here I’m a monster with a very sick mantra Sipping Monsters, you a little bitch rapper and a romper Don’t compare big tractor to a Tonka And I don’t give a fuck who you signed to I don’t give a fuck about the concerts you lined up Or how many times your album was streamed Time’s up