Текст песни Brooklyn Academy - Immortal Technique feat. Metaphor
I'm
a
beast
of
the
underground
Hotter
than
lava
rocks
You
don't
know
what
time
it
is
Then
go
out
and
cop
a
watch
When
drama
pops,
we
fade
niggas
out
like
a
barber
shop
Y'all
talk
a
lot,
we
stomp
pimps
out
in
the
parking
lot
Step
on
my
block—that's
a
mistake
like
when
the
condom
pop
You
got
to
stop
before
you
get
shot
like
Big
and
Pac
Two
shots
to
your
arm
and
your
crouch
We
bombin'
your
spot,
we
got
it
on
lock
Please
believe
I
got
the
heat
up
the
sleeve
So
sick,
I'm
a
living
breathing
disease,
a
hedonist
sleaze
Who
wants
a
piece
of
the
cheese
When
I
creep
through
the
trees
like
Vietnamese
Reach
for
the
breeze
before
I
lift
your
feet
off
the
leaves
Now
you
eager
to
leave—get
back
in
your
seat
While
your
lady
feelin'
on
my
meat
like
a
catholic
priest
Like
L.L.
in
the
back
of
the
jeep
We
swinging
episodes,
the
Tech'll
blow,
your
neck
explodes
Now
you
got
extra
holes
aside
from
your
ears,
mouth,
and
your
nose
A
fully
composed
masterpiece—I
was
fully
exposed
To
the
altered
beast
in
my
heart
I'm
sick
in
the
head
Don't
become
the
quick
of
the
dead
I
got
a
six-shot
revolver
lodged
in
my
esophagus
with
one
bullet
Eight-millions
stories
in
this
world
untold
So
in
my
notebook
is
where
I
put
'em
You
just
a
Jr.
like
Cuba
Gooding
I's
insane
in
the
brain
and
I
might
just
kill
a
man
like
Cypress
Hill
Throw
him
off
the
cliff
with
his
head
shaved
My
chest
caged,
smokin'
C.I.
backwoods
Type
to
walk
through
black
hoods—black
hood,
black
gun
Magnum
big
enough
to
pistol
whip
you
I
sit
and
beat
you
into
submission
until
both
of
your
eyes
are
missin'
Knock
your
teeth
out,
give
you
gashes
over
your
face
While
the
beatdown
still
pending
like
an
open
case
Y'all'll
take
me
to
court—that's
how
y'all
do
things
When
I
beat
you
down,
you'll
scream
out
"Su"
like
Wu-Tang
Choke
you
with
a
belt,
pull
your
pants
over
head
Range
Rover
both
of
your
legs.
Oops,
it's
over,
you
dead
Say
goodbye
now.
Niggas
gettin'
wiped
out
And
I
ain't
gonna
stop
'til
there's
blood
all
over
the
White
House
Tell
George
Bush
to
call
Bill
Clinton
And
have
him
call
Monica
Lewinski
'cause
the
boy
is
spittin'
I'm
sick
with
it.
They
got
me
watchin'
my
rear
view
I'm
looking
for
steel
to
stomp
him
with
steel
shoes
When
I
was
born,
they
put
me
inside
my
grave
first
I'm
lookin'
for
God
in
the
Garden
of
Eden
he
made
first
I
found
the
serpent
and
choked
his
ass
so
fast
it
reversed
the
process
of
Earth—birth
to
the
first
Earth
I'm
Pearl
Harbor
to
the
third
power.
I'm
like
the
Japanese
The
way
I'm
clappin'
when
I'm
packin'
heat
I'm
like
the
summer
when
you
feel
the
heat
I'm
like
bullets
from
Pakistanis—that's
word
to
my
baby
mami
I
spit
sicker,
malt
liquor
verse
I
got
it
wrapped
like
turbans—watch
how
I
swerve
to
the
left
Bin
Laden
bullets
burst
in
your
chest
Big
guns,
big
bombs,
big
bullets,
AK
and
a
vest,
nigga
What?
What
you
thought?
I
forgot
how
to
spit?
Spit
hot
shit
that
stick
like
the
top
of
my
dick
Walk
when
I
talk
so
my
words
are
stalkin'
My
thoughts,
things,
pluck
your
veins
like
guitar
strings
Harborin'
a
criminal's
thought
like
a
priest
in
a
pew
Listening
to
children
whisperin'
in
the
dark
Scissor
the
heart—if
you're
smart,
you'll
swim
with
the
sharks
Envision
this
block
locked
like
where
the
prisoner
watch
So
in
a
battle,
you
doubt
I'mma
win—you
goin'
out
on
a
limb
Snake'll
have
you
jumpin'
out
of
your
skin'
I'm
sick
like
multiple
sclerosis
Cult'll
kill
your
closet
kin—sins
can
only
be
found
through
hypnosis
You
got
to
crack
the
skull
to
pull
out
all
the
multiple
personalities—it's
comp'rable
to
what
I've
done
to
you
I'll
come
for
you
to
sculpture
you
with
scalpels.
What
do
you
prefer
to
lose?
Your
genitals
or
two-thirds
of
your
purple
ooze?
I
murder
crews
with
surgical
tools
and
drill
bits
So
when
they
ask
what
I
did
to
this
shit,
"He
killed
it."
If
you
ever
try
to
floss
on
me
up
in
the
cypher
Your
platinum
will
fall
apart
like
it's
made
of
Formica
You
think
you're
nice
but
I'm
nicer
Like
Ras
Kass,
Punisher,
and
KRS
in
a
gene
splicer
Fuck
a
Bentley—I'll
run
you
down
in
a
Chrysler
My
shit
is
raw
like
cocaine
stuffed
in
a
diaper
I
shared
cells
with
lifers
when
I
was
stuck
in
prison
Smokin'
Buddha
like
I
was
burning
someone
else's
religion
I
lift
my
leg
to
urinate
on
conservative
Christians
'Cause
you
never
seen
a
dog
hold
his
dick
while
he's
pissin'
Listen
instead
of
bitchin'
at
the
shit
that
I'm
rippin'
'Cause
intellectual,
murderous,
spittin'
this
copywritten
You
can't
compare
what
you're
kickin'
to
what
I
verbally
did
I'm
the
Lord
of
the
Flies,
nigga,
'cause
I'm
murderin'
kids
Run
up
in
your
crib
without
a
fuckin'
camera
crew
And
confiscate
your
plaques
for
doing
things
that
amateurs
do
Sabotage,
break
down
the
industry,
damagin'
you
A
runaway
slave—that's
how
my
stamina
grew
I
come
through
walkin'
on
water
like
the
messiah
I
make
bitches
lose
they
mind
like
Mariah
I
set
tracks
on
fire
like
Betty
Shabazz
And
when
I
fuck,
I
burn
rubber
like
Dominican
cabs
Iron-clad
armor,
spit
like
a
sub-machine
And
burn
your
block
to
ashes
like
nuclear
submarines
Ayo,
bitch,
put
your
finger
in
your
ear.
It's
squishy
in
there,
right?
That's
'cause
I
just
raped
your
fuckin'
brain
I'll
spit
a
five-star
motion
picture—let's
skip
the
previews
We
throwin'
razor
blades,
y'all
put
to
teaspoons
Get
to
know
me.
I'm
your
girl's
tenderoni
I'm
the
man
in
the
whip
with
the
place
in
the
back,
blinkin'
"Members
Only"
And
we
ain't
takin'
applications
We
the
team
that
got
the
fastest
break
to
five
championships
without
a
talent
agent
I
be
on
the
real—I
beat
on
your
skill
I'll
kill
your
lawyer
and
I'll
pee
on
your
deal
And
I
ain't
tryna
be
funny,
I'm
just
tryna
see
money
Add
to
the
game
and
keep
the
economy
running
I'm
going
anywhere
life
takes
me
'cause
there's
gotta
be
something
And
by
the
time
I'm
out
the
game,
see,
there'll
be
probably
be
nothing
I'm
tryna
move
to
the
left
and
keep
y'all
in
the
middle
I
got
the
butter
handle—y'all
always
double
dribble
Y'all
been
suckers
way
back
since
your
mother's
nipple
I
double-dare
you
to
step
if
trouble
hit
you
Y'all
got
it
backwards
like
pussy,
so
wise
up
People
look
too
hard
and
get
their
eyes
stuck
I
swing
my
dick
in
the
air
'cause
I'm
that
fly
fuck
Live,
about
to
erupt,
better
slide
up!
We
keep
it
hard—y'all
have
step
or
stay
or
Dante
Y'all
better
get
the
fuck
up
like
Pharaohe
Monch
say
And
put
your
hands
where
my
eyes
can
see
I'm
MJ
on
the
mic,
so
come
fly
with
me
It's
Mr.
Meta,
do
the
math.
7 minus
3
That
cat
breakin'
out
the
church
with
the
bride-to-be
One
week
later,
she
cooking
me
broccoli
Two
weeks
later,
her
cousin's
on
top
of
me
Three
weeks
later,
I'm
up
in
her
family
With
the
keys
to
the
crib
and
the
Cam-ery
I
plan
to
see
the
world
in
the
outer
limits
Without
no
gimmicks,
it's
Met
now.
Out
my
business!
![Immortal Technique feat. Metaphor - The Silenced Revolution](https://pic.Lyrhub.com/img/f/t/p/w/mpNomOwpTf.jpg)
Альбом
The Silenced Revolution
1 April Freestyle
2 Belly of the Beast
3 Black Out Special
4 Hip Hop Speech
5 Hok (remix)
6 Underground Railroad Freestyle
7 Razor Death Blade Stick
8 The Rebel
9 The Other White Meat
10 In the Club Freestyle
11 Brooklyn Academy
12 Keepin' It Raw
13 Fight Until the End
14 Audio Technician
15 Bangers Freestyle
16 Battles vs. Flow
17 Battle vs. Postaboy
18 Battle vs. C-Rayz Walz
19 Dance With the Devil (instrumental)
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