A bunny can, su espectro

Have you ever heard the tale ofThe noblest of gentlemen rose up from squalor

Tall, dark, and decked out in custom-made regalia

Smellin′ like paraphernalia

Hailin' from the home of Mahalia

His uptown smile was gold like of Frankie Beverly Day

His favorite song from Prince was not, "Raspberry Beret"

It was, "Sometimes It Snows In April"

He was brought up by the faithful

In the cage of every unclean bird, ungrateful and hateful

The legend of the clandestine reverend from the Bricks

With the master′s grip to pull the sleeping giant out the ditch

And I ain't even have to wiggle my nose like Bewitched

I just upshift the six, convert the V4 to a broomstick

Though I tarry through the valley of death, my Lord give me pasture

If you want to be a master in life, you must submit to a master

I was born to lock arms with the devil at the brink of the hereafter

Me, the socket, the plug and universal adapter

The prodigal son who went from his own vomit

To the top of the mountain with five pillars and a sonnet

The autobiography read Quranic

Spread love like Kermit the Frog that permeate the fog

I'm at war like the Dukes of Hazard against the Bosses of the Hogs

Gi-Gi-Giggity, Alchemist put the icing on the soliloquy

Let it be forever known that I niced up to pen something considerably

Jay Elec′ told the flow mainly is support mainly

The fatwa he issued on al-Shayṭān was delivered plainly

It′s the day of Qiyāmah

To the believers, I bring you tidings of joy

But if you want beef, I'll fillet mignon ya

You could catch me bummy as fuck or decked out in designer

On I-10 West to the desert on a Diavel like a recliner

Listen to everything from Electra

From the honorable minister Louis Farrakhan

To Serge Gainsbourg or Madonna or a podcast on Piranhas

What a time we livin′ in, just like the scripture says

Earthquakes, fires and plagues, the resurrection of the dead

I'm a miracle, born with imperial features

I′m a page turner, sage burner, santeria

Chongón, December baby, Mauritius

Saint Hov, story takes place in ancient Egypt

They'll cut off the nose to spite their face, they′ll steal yo' Jesus

I can't Tahiti White that blued-eyed virgin is make believe stuff

She throw me out the house, say ye deliver us from this heathen

I say that to Ms. Tina, she′ll sneeze at sun, her photic reflex

They both have straightening combs, little did they know

I hold the heat next

Neither tool, can be used to fix our defects

P.S: we born perfect, fuck all the B.S

Everybody wanna be us for real, we just gotta see us

Insha′Allah

I tried to turn a page, over a zillion times