can't sit and wait, I'm destined to be greater
I bait fate's line then blank it like an eraser
its a waste of time to filtrate Grace, I take it straight no chaser
I blanket cyberspace with rhymes in the likeness of fiber-optic lasers
traitors try to calculate the bit-rate but equate to pixelated haters
blatantly vie to desecrate the high Estate and assimilate later
Satan's way is fake, he wades in hot lakes of fiery vapors
as they of divine faith congregate at Zion's gate to embrace and kiss the face of the Creator
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