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Текст (слова) песни: Outerspace f Esoteric - Far Greater

[Scratching]
You feelin` Outerspace nigger lick two shots
We lettin` you know
You feelin` Outerspace nigger lick two shots
Bow down to something far - greater

[Crypt the Warchild]
I`m word perfect, write my words in a worse curse
And emerge versus, tear this verse in the first person
Disturbed surgeon operatin` for those hurtin`
It`s most certain that shows jerkin` when my flows workin`
Most poetical, watch the game from a gold pedestal
Half man/raging bull when I stand next to you
Me & Plan identical, make it unbearable
The reason that you bleedin`, the reason for needin` medical
No need to even threaten you `cause talk is cheap
I breed my seeds ready to assault the street
Proceed to breathe heavy, get upon this heat
Let my lines accumulate inside a vault for weeks
My flows are sickenin` - I should be washed & bleached
I`m down to get it in you feelin` froggishly
Surround you spitter sins wit` a squad that`s deep
The ground I fit `em in, let the applaudin` teach

[Scratching]
You feelin` Outerspace nigger lick two shots
We lettin` you know
You feelin` Outerspace nigger lick two shots
Bow down to something far - greater

[Planetary]
It`s me, the most evil verbalist alive
I`m sicker than one foot in the grave ready to die
My brain move, `bout the same speed a train move
Disturbed world rap, pain moves you lame crews
Rage of angels, no wings crack halos
Smack devil`s on payroll when heaven`s gates close
I change clothes before rockin` a stained robe
My names gold, voice platinum my frame glow
My shoebox got Tupac and Pun in it
I rock "Hail Mary" spittin` `til the nuns get it
I done did it, after twenty five years
Five beers I`m buzzed, you sittin` wit` dry tears
The atmosphere`s filled wit` debris & dust
My wordplay is nothing you emcees should trust
Bust back syllable gats blast triumphant
Fuck that, we killin` you cats black we run shit

[Esoteric]
Yeah, you know, it`s Esoteric
7L on the fader

[Scratching]
Bow down to something far greater

[Esoteric]
Let me find out these little cats want it wit` Es
I`m at ya mum`s rest, stompin` ya chest homie I`m serious
I see cats tryna get their cake up
Make a nickel, and prepare to be a dyme like make-up
The gladiator hit the ring for spars
You wanna rock, bring guitars
I can`t watch the news, `cause when I sneeze yo, I think it`s SARS
To the point I can`t think no bars, I just break ya balls
To the cats that cling to bars, to the ones in the mirror lip-syncin` Nas
I be shrinkin` stars, once I`m done wit` ya face
You gonna have to find a girl who got a thing for scars
I be liftin` motherfuckers out their mink & cars
Then I lounge in bed, g`ahead count my bread
My Boston accent will pronounce you dead
Flip a rhyme like an ounce, make sure mouths is fed

[Scratching]
Bow down to something far greater *2X*

 

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