War In Heaven Pt. II

Rodan - “War In Heaven Pt. II”
[Emcee(s): Rodan]
[Producer(s): RAVAGE]

[Verse: Rodan]
Reside in the bloom of the Sun under gloom of dark nights, subterraneous
Far beneath the shines of park lights. From vacant lots
We pack Glocks, niggas with ninja helmets and parked bikes
Undertake this thought and tasked to spark mics. Like Noah
Raise a proper nation from the population, brave the storm
Fly ships and then build archetypes, murder one
In digital format, homicidal cyber sights
Elevation well beyond your average pop, commercial dick-rider likes
This rap squad is radioactivating like Peter Parker
And spider bites, unconventional motion like chess knights
Cross the path of the gods, get blessed right
Rotate you for a test flight over the crescent. You couldn’t phase
Son through Allah on your best night. Contemplating the wrong move
I guess you must have guessed right. I’m the star of the hardest show
You just a street transvestite. We’ll smack that fag
Get the rights for the village voice. Y’all duplicitous, hypocritic bigots
Hear me? Don’t you know a black man was the first one to solve
The first equation for the Grand Unified Theory? Calling the cops
Pity Twelve Monkeys ‘cause y’all raps are verbal diarrhea
Cut out the middleman—fuck your jeweler—imported
Straight from the diamond mines in Tanzania, B felonies
Monstas in the street taking y’all to war like lions and
Hyenas, artillery activists, firearms
Immaculate. How many niggas wanna be white? Better yet, how many
Crackers wish they was black and shit? God ain’t racist—it’s just
Historically accurate, actual, factual degree
Interpolation of the lexicons just to attack you with
The New York Paul Robeson pack a nickel-plated thesaurus
Northern regions, flying over a brontosaurus, rep the hood
Lower East, and don’t forget where the Twin Towers stood for tomorrow
Blowing up Philip Morris. Watch every word
You regurgitate step-by-step when you’re rehearsing tape
No time, ill burst of fate. Play the victim, we’re here to serve
The plate. Spread my wings, make every corner of the hyperspheres
Reverberate. Back in the beginning of the new millennium
When Venus Williams won back-to-back Wimbledons, see the Czars
Descended from the stars, symbolisms swinging like
A pendulum on top of the New Jerusalem, straight-up
Generals in the Kremlin