Текст песни Sons of Jerusalem (feat. Zensoul) - The Thought

Cherry-picking grave-robbers
It was Bush not the Clintons with a gay daughter
Slurry made from rainwater
Mixing in with construction, a little brain-fodder
What's that over yonder?
But a pile of the money that I squandered
Every path I wandered after crashing planes I chartered
First you got to mean something if you want to be a martyr
If I want to be a father got to reckon with this
I shouldn't even bother if I'm guarding a fifth
'Cause the odds of burning gardens off the art of the swish
Take you past the begging pardons 'cause you already switched

And I've started my departure from the paths I was shown
Past the avenues of addicts who told Jack he was home
Could you imagine if I hadn't? Turn my talents to stone
I'm the fact-check you lacking, got no backing to show
I been itching to abandon any sense of understanding
'Cause the management and labels can't acknowledge competition
Let me pitch a couple plans, and if y'all still hate where I'm standing
You can ditch the Planet Underground without the manned mission
I ain't bland, I just hate branding, I don't mean to be demanding
But I mean it without padding that it's tragic, my position
I don't need a hundred grand, I just need a hundred fans
All I'm asking, if you can, is please sit down and listen

Sons of Jerusalem
Those who think they above, let's go Medusa them
Jeru the damager blowing out a Buddha lung
You got a booty throwing at you, better move your tongue
They just want the crude to run, shooting what they do for fun
Cover up the truth in mud, Noah really knew the flood
Run your customs through customs
'Cause what you're accustomed to is nothing but a dungeon

Forgive me for my lateness
Thought it was some latency until I got impatient
Stepped outside of comfort zones where boundaries estrangement
A stranger like the Doctor, I've adopted what was taken
That nickel and gold-plated, simple and mosaic
Got diagrams fit for the dome in Stone Ages
I been humble as abodes with a huddle when opposed
By the hundreds who were hunted, now hunt in the frontal lobe
Man, we been God, this squad hunting more than Nimrod
Triple-headed canine, cerebellum chem-dog
Kim Jung-Il, Slipknot, get bodied like Bin Laden
This be the end-times, love and death on a thin line

Jump to conclusions like all of America
Making money is more important than your own character
All I want for my next birthday is an apology
What ever happened to honesty being the best policy?
Can't upload love or download time with technology
Can't pass go, damn, this got to be monopoly
It takes courage to be real and authentic
Everything you heard from me I said it and I meant it
A young Jet Li, I'm deadly just like the Dead Sea
Fear of loss, over the edge, is where it sends me
It's important to learn after losing a fight
It's not about proving them wrong, it's about proving you right

Sons of Jerusalem
Those who think they above, let's go Medusa them
Jeru the damager blowing out a Buddha lung
You got a booty throwing at you, better move your tongue
They just want the crude to run, shooting what they do for fun
Cover up the truth in mud, Noah really knew the flood
Run your customs through customs
'Cause what you're accustomed to is nothing but a dungeon

My pen drops death notes kept in escrow
The city never slept when society bled slow
If pity never wept when the diaries said so?
Then any given threat turns pests to pesto
It's not a test bro, beware when you tell lies
The medium through which we may discern dispels why
Inhale L's for El, unveil the Twelve Tribes
Kool as LL with the gang in Seville
Derive consonants, your continent tried, no getting through to them
Making use of the Sun like hermetic medics, Jerusalem
Uh-huh, yeah, no getting through to them
Making use of the Sun like hermetic medics, Jerusalem