Fastlane
King Geedorah
Only God is judge, never plea the case
Always aware of the truth we could never erase
Fallen from grace, black North Face
Ounce of green smoke, Jack with no chase
Peddle on the floor, thirsty for score
Fast lane, destination: Top of cash game
Seek heat like a missile with mad aim
You can’t blame missing spirits who campaign
A mystery to most, universal
Most see as hot, yup, more often than not
Vision clear like a Hindu with the third eye dot
We be weak, not, baby–that’s my word. I got
‘Nough rhymes, tough times, try talking to kids
Who walk around thinking that (God) doesn’t forgive (uh)
Life in itself is like a bid
And if you scared to die, then you scared to live
Ain’t it a shame? Dealing with the remain
Hennessy on the brain, travel the plane
World of copycats, twisted deathtraps
Bliss the sex raps, wine to jet-black
Matters awake in response, since came to life
Singing a séance, escape the realm
Fly swift like old hat, fake jacks and cats
Catch two smacks (back up) Gentlemen, relax
Blaze trails that haven’t been traveled in a while
Scatter clues for those who equate the style
Cruising in the Lex out the window seat while I be
Tripping off the rhyme, bop my head to the beat
I can’t speak on delirious mood swings
True crowns, are handed to true kings
Title-taking, back straightened, money-making
Vital sign awaken, idle minds go to Satan
No debating on the vessel that we navigating
Gravitating, scheming, leave ‘em standing, waiting
Specialize in futuristic mental picture-painting
We’re enslaved to sick ways, I'm quenching with thirst
Gift of a new day that seem like a curse
With what we made, penetrate the charade
Incision is barely felt from the sharpness of the blade
Moving motionless through this masquerade
Looming in the dark but just to say we spark (what?)
A match made in Heaven and Hell apart (yeah)
But still one if it’s life we start (uh)
So real, revealed, signed and sealed
What we feels translates to meals
That 9-to-5 shit is no joke
Muscling, scientist, but don’t look down upon
My hustling
World of copycats, twisted deathtraps
Bliss the sex raps, wine to jet-black
Matters awake in response, since came to life
Singing a séance, escape the realm
Fly swift like old hat, fake jacks and cats
Catch two smacks (back up) Gentlemen, relax
Blaze trails that haven’t been traveled in a while
Scatter clues for those who equate the style
Look at them, those two space monsters
The one with the three heads is King Geedorah
And that one's Gigan
We are controlling them