The Meaning of the Sphere (Clean)

[Intro: Vast Aire]
Yeah, yeah, yeah. That’s right, people. It’s going down right now. Sword fire, LoDeck, Breez Evahflowin’, Vast Aire, Tes One

[Verse 1: Vast Aire]
Yo, yo, I keep my eye on a bitch like I play Big Brother
It’s all gravy—prepared to get smothered
I’m tired of actors with sunk pants faking
Wearing mustard green and [?], claiming Jamaican
I got to let it out like an angry dog barking
The more ice on grills, the faster you keep walking
Please. “I can’t” is not in the vocab
And it ain’t a Fugees symbol. It’s my left jab

[Verse 2: Breez Evahflowin’]
[?] often flow like a mechanical dolphin
The scale of a whale inhaling a botanical garden
You passing by a vaginal margin, fag
Bag your flag, capture and torture all your national guardsmen
I’m starving, dissolving my problems in beats, writing
The type of shit you shoot in the head that keep fighting
Embedded genetically graphic with the craft
In class, we spit at that, attack you with a passion

[Verse 3: LoDeck]
This shit is super fly—more than eighth grade or handing out
Parachutes, laying in them golden trading cards for amatuers
These are the times so precise that, when [?], the fangs rise
Fake blood spurts from the booth. I
Budge and rewind the film on your suit
You go from deaf to mute

[Verse 4: Tes]
Write the rhyme, make the whole world mine
Who’s swellering at heat get outshined
One outline with scratch-outs give ‘em blackouts
Knock down the gold plaque titles of rap battles
Punch for punch, quicker than most, sicker than most
But time is swinging with the knockout bell ringing
Try to get up before the ref counts to ten
Soon as they step back up, knock ‘em down again
I love the sight of blood, so when I punch, I punch
I get your pulse up. Don’t give chase or I will envelop your face
Bent hands chase tape, knuckles to crack
Knock you back off your heels. I’ma stretch your wheels, drop you flat
In my mind, mercy don’t exist
Words suggest heavy weight, grams switch to pound
Mixed with light weight, footsteps moving faster than the
Speed of sound

[Verse 5: LoDeck]
I drop music that makes animals spark pussy hot
Yelling super-sized, drunk in a sushi spot
Make all the sound effects you want, heckler
Swarm you. Embedded like cumshots on [?]
And when you meet the dimwit norm, you’ll understand
I’m from the land of flows, Napoleon’s hands
On some shit, you think?
Approach me slow, [?]

[Verse 6: Breez Evahflowin’]
There’s no motherfucking doubt you ain’t fitting to shred
And overcome any dumb shit that get in your head
So fresh, I’m the first thing you smell when you get into bed
And your heady is dead but already been fed
My game is gold. That’s why I get it (So fresh)
When you crack your sack, your eyes get redded
Walk the streets with the traum, he’s looking for bombs
Spark and burn back and forth like Bush and Saddam

[Verse 7: Vast Aire]
And if you bleeding on the floor, it was my right stab
Shit, I got a Oxcutter that’ll cut straight through butter
And it don’t got to be hot
Shit, I’ll hit you with Harlem hands. You don’t got to get shot
I’m that Cannibal nigga who makes xylophones
Out of rib cages. Don’t test my pages
And when we roll Viking blunts with a little bit of Moss
It’s a cold place, killer, a cold winter

[Outro: Sample with DJ Scratches] (x5)
“Dealing in my cypher, I revolve around science” - Sample from Ghostface Killah on Raekwon's "Criminology"