Sunday, October 7, 2012


I’m the Ghost and I’m the Machine and I came to motherfuckin rage
I took the Bible and I rolled a fat doobie with a page of Revelations
9 Revolutions count me out….in
Now let’s begin, my flow’s the chosen one
Since my arrival, nope no rivals
But strutting up Dante’s inferno, what a piece of fuckin cake
A slice of that green cake, make mine frosty
I love doing what I want no matter what the cost be
Charles Manson is Hanson to me
Non threatening, you get what I’m saying?
Hello! see my halo?  oooh look at that hot little She-Devil
I just pitched my fork, I think I’ll get a little hellish
never embellishing an iota of my power
So I share and shower these heaven sent rhymes
to make your glower jump the turnstile and decide to become higher
On your mark…set…spark the fuse of this bomb is getting to the wire
I’ve never lost in any one of my lives
I designed the game and I totally recall also
that I don’t need to figure anything out
cause I wrote the cheat codes
You can’t defeat the undefeatable Creator of the world, my sponsor
Got the belt, the Welter…no the…wait…the Swelter Weight Champ
As I do a lyrical kick flip off this motherfuckin’ ramp
As I get even into this motherfuckin rant
Allow me to illuminate your lantern
See the stare of the Serpent in the flicker
Flow sicker, so dope, I spit Flicka…HORSE!
Sip the Shaman’s brew, let it gently unscrew your fragile egg shell mind
C’mon baby, light your fire
Mine’s the one that’s already burning so high
Yeah, shit…Watch it rise higher
Oh, never expire….no kidding
I climb the fuckin Empire State Building cause I am the King
you’re on my dong, you hear that bell you donkey-ass?
smash a barrel at the wall Crash…Shrap…Scatter..Snap in my rap bear trap
My doors of perception read “Yes, We’re always open!”
Perceptor, translation, transform my pen into my Royal Scepter
Here are my orders: Girlys shake your hips
yeah, that’s why GOD made’em, Let me handle the handiwork
I heard it from the horse’s mouth
Of course in your bed you found the head of a fuckin horse
Cause I’m the messenger
Ride my bike on the tightrope spoke of the wheel of fortune
and looking good, I rap like only one who’s tapped into it ever could
The thing with me is that it’s plus infinity
Hee Hee, you feel this shit?
Look, I’m on automatic pilot, my Channel is my walkie talkie
Scribbling, Scribing, hear the Shaman Chant
His Heirophant teleprompter working loud and clear
No need for a yell-o-prompter, my disses made you piss your pants
and you ran away, you’re scared…guess my rhymes are a yellow prompter
I’m from beyond yonder
way…way…waaaaaaaaaay across the pond
Hello, who’s speaking?
Long distance call from the King
The most acceptable receptacle for the most pure dopeness
straight from the secret honey pot of infinity
I’m winning, call me Winnie
It’s a sinny to poo-poo my divinity
or act like an ass Eeyore or rap whack like that
I’m killing every frame, I mean bar
In the name of my shining star
The North…Dog…Morning
Hop in my luxury car fit for a King
Look at my existence glistening and ringing out with
The insane fragrance of Shambhala
Shout’em out a holla cause They love me there
Actually, that land is tuned in right now
to hear the verses of the highest and the flyest
Yeah, my tower always crumbles but with the Sun it always rises
I’m the one, are you that surprised kids?
No one could write verses like this,
so I scribe’em, message’em from my tribe on the other side…
Don’t you see them waving “Hi”?
My flow’s that sink your toes into the moist, cold flesh of the Earth
and fuckin scream through the screen of silkwood
and milk could flow from the Owl hole
That’s how it goes sometimes
All I need is one mic and that is all of existence
I could spit my rhymes in the toilet and all the Angels still wouldn’t miss it
no one can resist it which is how it was designed to be in the system
Ooh be good Lady, ga ga goo goo
you’re looking sexy in your high-heel shoe shoes
and tell your fella over there to shoo shoo
so we can do the do-do cause that’s how we do-do
Got the D-O-O D-O-O scooper
Pick up your rhymes and toss’em down the garbage chute-r
You’re right, you just got dissed…yes, you’re quite astute
Now I got your bad bitch in her birthday suit
Got her hand yanking on my yankee doodle
Blowing on my candle
Light up some weed, call it Joni Mitchell
One hit will make you feel like a big yellow taxi hit ya and a Crocodile bit ya
Yeah it’s Gregree, rap G.O.D. and I got what it takes to rock this mighty light
so nighty night haters, in the bin I’m tossin ya
cause I’m awesomeness that can’t be expressed
and I aint tired, I’m inexhaustible
ugh, the spell is cast, the die rolled
roll them bones. spark ‘em
I’m the Headless Horseman so I aint endorsing your Icabod flow
I’m scorching, my veins coursing with endorphins haters!!!
The heavens catered this life as a banquet for Me, the One
and You, the All, now let’s dig in you motherfuckers and let’s have a ball