Let It Ride

[Intro: I-See-On and Mr. Metaphor]
Mr. Metaphor: Yo, son. Yo, son. Fuck is that sound son?
I-See-On: Wack members, man. Haha
Mr. Metaphor: Fuck

[Hook: I-See-On and Mr. Metaphor]
Let it ride, ride high to the sky
Never die. We all shall rise
Open your ears, open your eyes. Here’s a word to the wise:
You could run but can’t hide

[Verse 1: I-See-On]
I’m trying to think of reasons why my life is so bad
I’m twenty-one years old now and I ain’t seen my own dad
Just got my GED, but you’ll be freeing three police, freed the beast
We are the world, we are the children—let freedom ring
American flags. Confederates surrendered the ave
Word got back to me. I heard Joseph got bagged
That shit is fucked up. Them niggas got sheisty and locked his truck up
With no clothes on. Half-naked and pulled his trunks up
These streets are trife if you believe the hype. Praying in Jesus Christ
Bullets that ricochet off of buildings move at the speed of light
Becoming troopers with no lungs, spitting our bloody mucus
We live like savages and spit with the tongue of a hungry mutant
Operation Slobodan Milošević
[Mike Idarola’s?] frozen. He’s dozing, posing like he’s holding bricks
My clique’s the wildest. Fuck a book—give me million dollars
Never been to college, studied scriptures of forbidden knowledge
Flee the fortress. We crossed the borders of the Boston waters
For the cost of quarters, son, you’re coughing with the force of orbit
[Sight cloned?], using the forces of a cy-c-lone
When God created me, he used the portions of a Viking’s bone
Looked to my nigga E. “I’ll see you in the next century”
It’s elementary where The Devil bred the dead in me
And if they elected me, I’d empty every penitentiary
God vs. The Devil—20 rounds with no referee

[Hook: I-See-On and Mr. Metaphor] (x2)
Let it ride, ride high to the sky
Never die. We all shall rise
Open your ears, open your eyes. Here’s a word to the wise:
You could run but can’t hide

[Verse 2: Mr. Metaphor]
I only drink hard liquor. You Canada Dry
I stick a mic to your chest—put your hands to the sky
We could battle to the death, son, granted you try
And I would not stand for less unless, damn it, you die
I’m the one that bodied Hoffa and abandoned the ride
I’m that psychopathic doctor that examines your mind
Your whole crew—one at a time, had ‘em standing in line
Reading my rhyme, leaving ‘em bleeding at the scene of the crime
These are the times. When I spit, you better read between the lines
There’s a fine line between new and old—mines is primetime
Ayyo, it’s my time. Fuck a stop sign. Won’t stop rhyme
Rain or sunshine, you get hit by my punchlines
I spit at mountaintops, causing mudslides
I’ma stab you with a mic and tie you up until the blood dries
I’m going for the grand prize, gonna win by a landslide
Take a land by storm, storming the ground with my hands high
I took the crown when the champ died, put the belt by my side
Prayed to God for the health he provide
I will survive, staying alive. Something over my eyes
I seen the smoke in the sky. All joking aside
I seen the ocean dry, seen the Earth’s motion rewind
My focus was blind, frozen in time, thorns poking my spine
Out of my mind, hours gone by, bullets that scoured the sky
Seen the hour cry—that means it’s my time to die

[Hook: I-See-On and Mr. Metaphor] (x2)
Let it ride, ride high to the sky
Never die. We all shall rise
Open your ears, open your eyes. Here’s a word to the wise:
You could run but can’t hide