georgea floyda [r.i.p. to uncle joshua]
...the mission statement as I been drawing out my manifesto
r.i.p. to great uncle joshua, his white co-workers saw fit to
murder him out of jealousy, back in jacksonville florida
between there and georgia's where him and his siblings was coming up
memorial day 2020 I caught wind of da' 5 bloods
the same day george floyd was kneed to death, the sins of the whitewash
the end of their time, thus the 5K been rising to find them
scrambling for their white lives trying to appease GOD who I am
the sign language is therefor letting me know shit's the world's notice
hand over all gentrifiers to me for me to implode them
israel's done bobbing and weaving, clean my cum from ya' colon
by taking the hit, no more thievery, give up what u owe me
the cotton fields of niggas souls, the white barricades didn't know
their reward's death for thinking kudo points earned swearing niggas slow
harriet tubman shoulda' been made money, but they stalled the plans
then george was set up over a fake twenty claim, that store should hang
israel u asked if I like what u done set up for me, think
the corona's the result of u blocking me from being scene
for every edit of my word u done made u will have to pay
and I ain't taking a vaccine for shit, as I collapse the gates...
wu'hahn [the extinction level event, god]
...yeah, see, I'm owning the wtc site ever since vesey and church
was leveled out, I warned u do not touch the last message I perched
it's alleged 1919 the black chamber's in possession of
r.c.a. was-it, to the 36th chamber's obsession thus
of seeking me the sun tzu-wu out as The Father 13X
I'm just a tone, trying to keep my head on straight, this one thing just
kept repetative as no sedative works once I'm nudged awoke
my sleepwalk itself paved the road of the 5.00 per 0.01's blunt approach
the extinction level event's the gross, what's got u all in check
is wu'hahn, cov-i.d.'s resolve's the attempt to absolve its debts
lo'lo' on stand-by for the dick I'm about to dock on her with
hair splinters to her ribs be my intent, stuff a sock through her lips
to prequel my way to the main event, the tug-of-war's the show
the wtc's in too deep to ban me, the doors' my own
I don't make threats, I state the facts, u marked for death, and that is that
my brother enoch can mitigate my wrath 'til the clan retracts
errors in decisions to try to play the members of my cast
your masonic diplomas made of trash, my terror burns your backs
the inferno flames ate your gas, the eternal flames ain't for laughs
every wall turned to punching bags, every hurdle my legs surpassed
to unlock myself out of 113, I'm 13, who's the 1
u propping up trying to suppress me, it's nimrod, he's a punk
no formidable opponent at all to say the least of it
your prayers and pleas muzzled, asghedom's return such a deep subject...