[Immortal Technique]

My rhymes are harder to digest for money

Than coke balloons in a Colombian broad's tummy

You fucking dummy, I'm like a firing squad

You get a empty feeling like you lying to God

Lucifer status, you goin' crazy like crack addicts

Acid tabs, mad hatters and talking jack rabbits

Pack an automatic, you don't know me money

I'll smack the shit out you like you owe me money

Immortal Technique, body strapped up with plastique

Leave a crater like a meteor landed in the street

My presence, еven backed with an essence stays hard

Like fucking on a Native American graveyard

My peoples spirit still stands defiant

Until America falls and they stand in triumph

Lyrical Nephilim giant, Look me up in the bible

The son of the son, Genesis 6

Homicidal