Verse I

Entropy, synonymous with eventually

The tendency for everything to end and cease: destiny

Time and space will get bent as me

When I been drinkin’ hennessey, and then just leave like c’est la vie (peace!)

The universe is a sentient entity

Sendin’ some energy, ‘til it’s spent like rent and amenities

So I view my verses as a few bits I left of me

For when it is rest in peace, what a futile trajectory

When the planet is set to be consumed by the sun

Like a blessed Greek effigy, ain’t no emcee I respected

Ever said nothin’ less than mean

--ingful, let what you sing ring true for the people

Or shut your fucking trap, ya’ll sayin’ nothin’ when you rap

That’s why I shove this gun up in your back

It’s a hostage situation, what I want’s my generation

To pause what has been playin’ on all these radio stations

Tupac’s not dead, he’s locked in my basement

I just confessed and I taped it, but these cops ain’t gonna case it

Because these cock suckers are so flagrantly racist

They like ‘Two Pack? Didn’t we already bag him like some Yuenglings?

Wasn’t he always gangbangin’ and hangin’ with entertainers?’

I pray to be using fame the same way that he sang for changes

Even if it all burns to hell when we gone

I’d rather be felt and compel development, not just sellin’ these songs

Chorus

Journey with me, this earth is like a circus on speedEnter the furnace! So come pull up a comfortable seat

Turnin’ and turnin’ with no purpose but to burn when we leave

And watch the surface of the sun become one with the sea

Journey with me, this earth is like a circus on speed

Turnin’ and turnin’ with no purpose but to burn when we leave

Enter the furnace! So come pull up a comfortable seat

And watch the surface of the sun become one with the sea

Verse II

Knock, knock, motherfucker, you already know who

Same ol’ dude who robbed your whole crew for some tofu

I’m sick and twisted, musically gifted

I’ll lift an infant by it’s limbs and kick it

I’m hard to listen to, large like Istanbul

Got heart like Ishin Ryu, and bars like in saloons

Crazy, like old Western films

I sit back with a bottle of Jack cuz there’s no one left to kill

You’re left with chills--Charles Manson music

Got Anton Lavey and Tim McVay dancin’ to it

I’m on that mystic brute shit

Spittin’ new ish that was written Runic in a Druid tunic

The hugest lunatic influence

Since persecuted Jews in Munich, screw it

Since acoustic sound, I move the crowd

Like Columbians do with pounds, I’m lucid now

So, who could frown?

It’s the infusion of Dr. Seuss and Zeus in the booth

With a few rounds of gin and juice and some ruthless nouns

I’m droppin’ adjectives like laxatives

The Ghastly click is spittin’ nastiness

Like that Exorcist actress did on mattresses

The raps I spit are what Catholics consider sacramenta

Like Lazarus in Nazareth, immaculate, son

An acid hit advocate, adamant on batterin’ nuns

With Anth and Andy Milonakis for fun

And after we’re done, we’re packin a blunt, with some hash

And that magical skunk grown under African sun

Instead of handlin’ techs, I’m readin’ Satanic texts

Cram a pen in my hand and carve a pentagram in your chest