מילים לשיר The Prophecy – Immortal Technique

So you're the motherfucker they call.Immortal Technique
What the fuck make you so special nigga?
Huh. what the fuck do you do?
I calculate planet alignment like Mayan astronomy Discovering atrocities worst than Aristotle
Subjecting children to sodomy
Your theory of the galaxy is primitive like telome
The truth about the universe stuck up like Aztec pottery
Unpredictable results like experimental psychology
I stomp the streets with MC's beneath my feet in colonies
But presentation and spirit revolve around autonomy
Searching for monogamy
And cutting fake bitches out of my mind like a lobotomy
Walked the top of the world and leave the arctic circle in flames
So obviously I'm not gonna be here to play games
I give a fuck about your emcee name I don't admire you
Battle the beast and false prophet predicted in the King James
Remember when rap was not economically viable
Only by dental records will you be identifiable
Cause the future is not reliable
Comparable to what motherfuckers think of me
I might be nobody but wait till I'm together like a symphony
Resounding sound that will continue infinitely
Angel of death punishing all those who live in infamy
You'll never get a glimpse of me
And shine so far away from you
Attempts to extinguish me don't even bother me none
Like retarded kids throwing ice cubes at the sun
A victory against Immortal Technique will never be done
Just degrees of losing it every second your adding one With more facts and formulas and philosophical logic
Some niggas dream of pushing kilos but I drop tons
Then a basement full of scientists puffing on chronic
Dipped in mycin potassium cyanide and liquid bubonic
Screaming like onyx is of absolutely no consequence
And use it as a sonic one to find the spawn of the demonic
The poison is dense enough to clog up your arteries
Mercy is not a part of me
Is inconceivable cause of the unbelievable evil injected inside
I cause you bodily injury permanently be simply verbally murdering me
The blood stream of my people
And redemption is not located under a church steeple
The feeble and the meek in soul just like the technique
Will inherit the earth, But the earth will be weak
Just death following the forth right disaster, a legacy of bastards
Mother earth in her decrepit terminal illness physique
The year three thousand is bleak no happily ever after
Cause you forgot that when your free it's multiplied indefinitely
With plastic explosives your futures been eroded
To socialistically united the third world countries
By the struggle that be the struggle I see
Sloppily obsessed with stopping me cause I speak prophecy
Expose hypocrisy in Americas democracy
Trample and dismantle your capitalist philosophy
The same way I stomp the conquering rap monopoly
And I'm not a fucking prophet
But that's the fucking prophecy.