Masala - Intellectual

[Verse 1]

Twenty-first-century hardcore tactics

Have you had enough of saccharine tictacs

Spice to tongue feed the syntax

Don't be crass just cause I've been lax

Yo stop bossing I've been that

My own team is a group of Sindbads

Not one but two percenters

Super ninjas you stupid dingbats

My inches rule like Genghis Kahn to continents what I'm to confidence

Since information is ambient

You need an ambulance to get past the traffic in an accident

Ask the judge if you can activate the third eye and you might get an affidavit

Swear to the court and then cuss thе agents

Custom border patrol with orders

Goods importеr and bad exporters

Petro or water sack the quarter

Rounds of mortars for mourners of martyrs uh

Solder wires to contact cool to bond the tips

But beyond that who's behind the mask pinch of turmeric

Profile prolific, that's him

Pacific rim, ring of fire

Apocalyptic, bomb Olympics

Pimp politics make ho's of simpletons attempt to taste and take a hold of impotence

Brain waves knowledge of power sittin'

Pretty in ottomans, antonym of ignorance

Killin' em with gems, the synonym sweet like cinnamon, strong like cardamon

[Chorus]

Masala

[Verse 2]

My voice to your eardrum

Chopped cayenne to the nostrils

Worldwide youth hostile

Extreme apostles, nocturnal posse of opossums

Strike a b-boy pose to foes and then

Juxtapose Heimlich to a chokehold

Iron-rich injera, v for vendetta

Red hot chili pepper spray, ay

Mr. Officer stop it sir

You break up the parties in riot gear

I copped it, photoshopped it and cropped it

Go to Egypt and Muslims coptics

Co-oped in the line of fire

Never co-opted I won't retire

Cuz the game is thicker than molokhia

The dragon slayer, dope rhyme sayer

Say yayer to the aroma

Gonna wake the dead or from a coma

I'ma serve the songs that flush your brain and

Perform miracles on carcinomas

Hail rosemary coriander cilantro

Hot berbere, very necessary

To heed the station, faite attention

Bless the nation, I bleed the peace these

Colors run down the flagstaff

A count of three, drink the half-half

Real and fake who gets the last laugh

Do the math fast and get the gas mask

Senses sharp like cumin

Check my acumen, take your vitamins

Sniff the saffron and scream eureka

Bitter like oregano, bright like paprika

[Chorus]

Masala

[Verse 3]

Money printed on paper and cotton

Bark and fiber return when rotten

To the soil that feeds the young seeds

Fend off the plague like four thieves

Vinegar, wine garlic and wormwood

Nag champa to set the mood

Cook the food with fennel, mint and thyme

Chaat masala and a hint of lime

[Chorus]

Masala