exhibit a remix
And his own story was as curious as his narrative
The tale of his life is the tale of a writer of incredible vision
An astute analyst and pundit
A lyricist compassionate and callus
A reckless hedonist and disaffected malcontent
I spit that Wonderama shit
Me and my conglomerates shall remain anonymous
Caught up in the finest shit
Get that type of media coverage Obama get
Spit that Kurt Vonnegut
That blow your brain Kurt Cobain, that Nirvana shit
Who gon' bring the game back
Who gon' spit that Ramo on the train tracks
That gold rope, that five-finger ring rap
Running with my same pack
You can find the Christ where the lepers and the lames at
Life is like a dice game
One roll could land you in jail or cutting cake
Blowing kisses in the rice rain
Nice whip, nice chain, a closet of skulls
The stench is like slave blood at Providence Hall, yeah
They built my city on top of a grave
Nigga die, nigga get high and watch the parade
Back in the early '90s
Where they at, where they at
Get the gat, get the gat was a popular phrase
Bally Animals and Rugbys was a popular craze
This the vivid memoirs of a obnoxious slave
I pave ways like Nat and Harriet
I blast on Judas Iscariot and peel off in the chariot
I'm sitting pretty, spitting flames, gripping grains
Ain't a damn thing changed
How does he do it?
My young lad, do you ask a dolphin how it swims? No
Or a eagle how it flies? No
That's right, you don't, because that's what they were made to do
You are about to bear witness my friends
To one of the greatest technological advances in modern history
BEHOLD! a confectionery behemoth
They say Candyman, Candyman, spit me a dream
Blow a chunk of the levee out and spit me a stream
Knock a man's house down and build a casin-
A two thousand dollar government check from FEM-
I swam down shit's creek and came up clean
With a new lease on life like Andy Dufresne
It's the most poetical, Nat King unforgettable
Clarence 13X Allah's rhapsody from Bellevue
I'm splitting atoms, spitting flames
Bringing change, things will never be the same
I got the rap game singing At Last like Etta James
Lames get they plane shot down like John McCain
It's a dream, it's a dream
The flow is elegant like Miss Coretta Scott King
A lot of kings seen death and turn queen
Crack they twenty-four inch rims in the ravine
Respect the architect, never test the Elohim
Goodnight, this is Jay Elec, live from New Orleans
My journey has brought me to an understanding of the divine forces which we have all been bestowed
It was in this search that I came upon a revelation
Which has called me to guide millions of people towards their righteous destiny
Bey!
I spit that, orchesteral
Medina born exceptional
Extra Extra Terrestial
From out the ghetto vestibule
Put your yard up on knowledge like the lessons do
So fly fiends can get high off the residue
So real, and surreal, a pure deal
Dante Flaco, flow handsome, guapo
The Sun, Moon, and Stars, Grits and The Gospel
School of Knock Harder and the teachin of Apostles
Pistols, prayer meetings, player balls, car shows
Festivals, funerals, the grotesque and beautiful
Phenomenons normal, the needed hardly happens
Fresh V's at high speeds zoomin backwards
Fast forward to last moments to flash over
Trick trappin they clique clack then blast on 'em
Damn homie it was all good a week ago
Show 'em the truth but can't make 'em believe it yo...
It's Curtains, the opening scene
Simpatico, remarkable, the article dream
Wake Up and bear witness to what you never seen
Reach out and feel what they said would never be...
Me... and J-A-Y-E, electronic motherboard
Shut em off they sucker songs
Fuck em all and the horse they rode in on
You can't trespass the star gate I go in on
Get off
I bust through the gates of hell like a batterin ram
Clappin yelling profanities like Yosemite Sam
After that, I'm back home scannin the land
Twenty-three million square miles of contraband
I know ya feel me, but still hope the opposition kill me
Cause you don't wanna see god manifest really
UFOs and cabbage water, Willie the Kid
You ain't seen one of these in a trillion years
Abracadabra, I popped out the meat grinder shining
The elegant art form of rhymings just blinding
And that's just a regular hat trick
A trick lock, a ninety gallon tank, yeah I'm back on that shit
The ark building mad man from Hôtel-Dieu
Act II, coming through a dream by you
Young Slumdog from uptown, pocket full of rupees
Torn up sheets of looseleaf and one Lucy