Scientific Pastime

The Deity Complex ft. Supreme Scientist 7 - “Scientific Pastime”
[Emcee(s): Supreme Scientist 7 (of The Deity Complex)]
[Producer(s): The Deity Complex]

[Intro: Supreme Scientist 7 (of The Deity Complex)]
Yo, just up in the lab, chilling.  This is Supreme Scientist, head architect for The Deity Complex. Know’m saying? On some wasting-time shit, so I thought I’d say a little something. This beat is really smooth though, some temp shit. It’s still scientific though. Uh

[Verse: Supreme Scientist 7 (of The Deity Complex)]
Here comes my
Explosion, nuclear fallout is next
Don’t waste no time threating, get the TECs and vexed
And throw a hex like them Creole bitches be doing
Killing couples in intimate times when they be screwing
And like Jason, I got your whole camp on a boat
But don’t be chasing no niggas—they’re running from my flow
And let you know ain’t no hoes up in this joint
We’re townhouse-killing false hards at gunpoint, smoke
No joints ‘cause there ain’t enough weed
They’re home in an atom, wishing for 2 for 15
On death-row, bum-ass weed, it gets you blow
But fuck with them psychic niggas at home where their mum grow
My style ain’t tricky but it fall like the rain
Hit a blunt or two to assimilate your brain
Become accustomed, word association combustion
My own employee, work myself into exhaustion
To keep it tossing and sweating through the night
Wake up at 4AM, son, just from pure fright
So guard your life—ashes to ashes, you turn to dirt
Let me put one in your ear—promise it won’t hurt. See, I’m
Out of here. These Lake cats, they can’t get me
TJ had the QPs for 250
Disappear for three-week stays, my out-of-way
Reappear one time just to blow your mind, then I’m
Out of here. Do your thing, you got time
To regroup your sentence and practice on your rhyme
‘Cause, this time, it’s like when the cops raid your residence
First, you panic, and then destroy all the evidence
What’s up with Twan? Egypt, he on the down-low
Doing hits for Pharaoh, you’ll see him tomorrow
Until then, catch the rain from the buckshot
Bombaclot emcee who walking bloodclot
Allahu akbar, peace to Sun due
Reigning champions stack money like I do
Who you gon’ shoot, kid? Heart weak like a vulture
Sedate ya, kick true rhymes for your torture
I told ya: fucking with E. is complicated
Say one rhyme better than mine, you think you’ve made it
Belay it ‘cause I come with the dope shit
Melt your mental temple, you beg for forgiveness
Keep your mouth shut, you might live gracious
You open up, enter as a cardiac patient. Like
Football, after every touchdown, I get a safety
And that’s some ill shit ‘cause ain’t no safe place to be
Hiding from me, I got them infrared scopes
The laser-beam sight on getting razors on your coke
But fuck it, champs. I should be aiming for your throat
But let you take the fall until you drop the soap
So now you know I got knowledge like the Torah
Revelations about to come back, this shit terror
The new era, know the sheisty Chi terrorist
Coming at you with more fucking math than Mount Everest

[Outro: Supreme Scientist 7 (of The Deity Complex)]
Godbody, just something. Godbody, just something, uh. I feel that. I like that. One time