Unknown Demo

Mr. Voodoo - “Unknown Demo”
[Emcee(s): Mr. Voodoo]
[Producer(s): Charlemagne]

[Verse 1: Mr. Voodoo]
Let us
Begin. Is it live or is it jive? I stay on that
Tail like a state trooper on a Jersey Drive. This is
Hip hop purified—with nutrients, it’s fortified. Call me
The pilot for your eye. Like a tour guide, I show the way
The flows I say make many a protégé, rappers be
Fronting when they know they’re gay. Homos, stay back
I stack G’s, so extract these
N-U-Ts out your throat. Kick melodies for c-notes over
Beats, I float like a deceased man, bloated like an
Obese man, Teflon-coated, but y’all’ll pull policemen
Your ho’s holding my sausage. I hold a crowd hostage, so put
Your hands in the air—you’ve been surrounded. I’m pound-
-for-pound the shit. You’re too counterfeit to coun-
-teract. I fiend blood of the wack like Count Drac’
Emcees be trying to bounce back, but ain’t an ounce fat
Sounds fat, but, kid, you don’t even know the half
I’m deep as a vaginal shaft. Blind, deaf, and dumb will feel the wrath
When papers touched by lithograph, cool as Miller draft
When it comes to mental faculties, you are understaffed just
For thinking of competing with me. Don’t make me “hah”

[Verse 2: Mr. Voodoo]
Well, it’s
The glorious, victorious one, London Eye
So sleep if you wanna—go ‘head, get some shuteye when I
Say I’m gonna kick it to you simple as time
Simple as the simplest crime, my temple is my mind
I can make you dance but not with this rhyme, motherfucker
This ain’t the grind—listen to the rhyme I designate
Put on page to resonate, stages I detonate
Devastate, never hesitate. Featherweights, get away
Set a date, then sedate, kick a rhyme and breeze, got
Mad testes, so don’t try to hang with it
I done did the Genghis shit, but I ain’t on no gangster shit
Find a mic, untangle it, strangle with and angle it
Puncture your capillaries with verbal artillery
Whenever I run out, I just switch to auxiliary
My mind fetches rhymes, but catches a nigga reckless
I can’t picture that even with courtroom sketches. See
If you got freestyles but you don’t have no material
It just ain’t managerial to battle the ethereal
Competitors come petty and get blown into confetti
Damn, why your face so sweaty?

[Verse 3: Mr. Voodoo]
Mr. Voodoo
Innovates hip hop. Your style is old
So renovate it or get dropped. Your flows drip-drop
Like leaky faucets, I’m a reservoir. You know the repertoire
Yearly, monthly, weekly, I toss it
Never lost it ‘cause it’s internal. My journal
Entries cause internal injuries. The undilutable
Hemlock’s the suitable remedy. I’m shoving iron
Nails under the cuticles of my enemy
I bombard and come hard, leave scum scarred, so unguard
What I’m rocking is studied like doctrines of Master Fard
Lethal like lard. Rappers I diss hard and discard
Rock discotheques and disconnect the incorrect
Herbs that roll up get rolled up and smoked up
Business ain’t over just ‘cause E and P broke up. I might
Get loc’ed up, but I ain’t on no Cali shit. I’m on that
“Get that nigga from the dark alley” shit. Mentally
No man can tally it or carry it. I’m proletariat
More niggas worship me than paganism. Plagiarism’s
Never condoned—I won’t allow it. I’m out with your
Whole outlet. Undoubtably, emcees’ll get run out it