Blind Fury (The Tempest) [Vocal]

[Hook: Block McCloud] (x2)
There is no opposition, no competition
No blind fury that could stop my vision
No adversary, no reason to worry
My vision is blurry. Stop, look, and listen

[Verse 1: Block McCloud]
Let the trumpets ring. It’s the all-encompassing
Come to bring a wondrous thing to keep the sons under wing
I just do it, be fluent when chewing. Forsaking’s not allowed from me
I rock the crowd—hollat the Block McCloud
You get to turn this flash. For now, to class and learn
Or crash and burn, ashes to urn as the wheel turns
You have to learn to take your time like Dutch Masters burn
And if your dues are paid, shit'll come back like a tax return
For a taste of fame, honest can inflict major pain
Bullets’ll raise the brain. I’m on the air like Frasier Crane
You heard the flows and dove in. Words is woven
Like Woolrich. With motion to gain, don’t slow there
These keep my enemies close if they’re posing
Threaten, you can bet you’ll get hung like wet clothes and
Autumn caught ‘em dozing, toured about, posing
Similes. Those in our vicinities know I’m proposing
Like Beethoven, Chopin, Johann Sebastian Bach
Got little Blocks wishing to clock when I’m rosy
Blowing up more spots than cops on Nostrand
Explosion, hoes on my jock like a Trojan

[Hook: Block McCloud and Mr. Metaphor]
There is no opposition, no competition
No blind fury that could stop my vision
No adversary, no reason to worry
My vision is blurry. Stop, look, and listen

[Verse 2: Mr. Metaphor]
Coming forth with a cyclone of bars
Get that mic blown. Stand clear of my strike zone
I kick a high tone, putting holes in the ozone
Slice you up like provolone, split your chromosome
My poem is known to leave your neck mad tense. In an instance
The shit I kick will give you shin splints, get smoked like Winstons
Or Newports. I’m getting buzzed off two quarts of Olde E
Slowly, my flow be Dicking you like Moby
I’ll Desert you like the Gobi and cross the Serengeti
Plains, and when I rains on top your head, you best machete
Ready or not, I got a hundred watts of lyrical shock
My spiritual flock of emcees got you on Master Lock
Pass the rock—I’m on point like Stoudamire
Dogging emcees like Oscar Mayer. Yo, a lot admire
My style. I’ll set your heart on fire—I’m a pyromaniac
Braniac collecting more Banks than Tyra. My re-
Sponse is ripping mics for the audiance
Been writing shit since the Renaissance with elegance
You’ll bless my séance. I’m waking up the dead, attack you
Like a hammerhead. As my grammar spread, I make the light shed
Illuminating. My eyes bright-red, blunts
Are fumigating, smoke accumulating. Folks, to you, them stating:
Words is complicating, got you contemplating, thinking
Concentrating, drinking. Comp’s compilationist
Confiscating. Your whole congregation stuck
Like constipation, payback’s my compensation

[Hook: Block McCloud and Mr. Metaphor]
There is no opposition, no competition
No blind fury that could stop my vision
No adversary, no reason to worry
My vision is blurry. Stop, look, and listen

[Verse 3: Pumpkinhead]
Welcome to my class. Have a seat, pay attention
I make you nod your head by way of hypnotic suggestion
My topics are hot hits like toxic on the optics
Leaving blind mice ejecting out of their cockpits
I slam emcees together like a mosh pit
I compose composites and make a deposit
On tracks when I drop shit to make you bounce
Like hydraulics or gay niggas when they frolic
Pass the chronic so I can talk stupid like Ebonics
With these sonics, I’m making wack emcees vomit
Like bulimics. So now you know the math of my staff
Class of ’97. My biology experience
Is beyond your tiny weapons, so step in my section
And catch a C-section dissection for crossing the intersection
I’ll leave you left in a state of shock
I got the hand that made the cradle rock, I rock smooth
I’ll feed you ‘til your navel pops, spinning like dreidel tops
Don’t need no blades or Glock to blaze the spot
Like four-alarmers causing trauma, you’re a goner
Putting you through more drama than a guidance counselor
Then pause like a comma, then bend like ori…
…gami on a Quest like Jonny and Hadji
With more technology than Konami

[Hook: Block McCloud and Mr. Metaphor] (x3)
There is no opposition, no competition
No blind fury that could stop my vision
No adversary, no reason to worry
My vision is blurry. Stop, look, and listen