The Prophecy (Radio Edit)

Lyrics

[Verse: Roc Marciano] Collect my thoughts My mind moves at warp speed, I often talk To myself about greed, why I smoke so much weed And indeed I love my freedom like my unborn seed Normally out of your league, I bond like Sean Connery Honor me with knowledge, pure homage, I'm astonishing Future promising, harnessing notes Composer I be, catching the holy ghost Over and over until you start sobering up Shine solar, spread Ebola cross tracks Computer viruses eating the wax Send a fax to you verbally, snap your whole vertebrae My word play is exquisite, electrici-ty I be on the Pacific side of water, my world order to joust Sit and build on that for hours I'm broader than Broadway in broad daylight While emcees bite the parquet my star is ajar Have a seat and parlay, God, word to father Fard I am no fraud, my origin sharp as a sword Razorbacks from here to Arkansas Hardcore tracks, how could you ask for more? from Suffolk to Nassau This is the last straw, your glass jaw, shatters I move matter for sure 'cross the shores of brain waves Mayonnaise spread across the bread like Boar's Head Purveyors of daylight, bathing in my haven I force fed my bredrin like brave men Breath in isometric conditioning keep me nice Now listen I'm the beneficent, travel the whole damn distance For instance my science connects to form a sentence Paragraphs I craft like graphite My son, keep your head up like a giraffe, shit is getting drastic I'm a classic like the '67 Chevy yet incredibly new You know my pedigree's better than medicine My measurements, five foot seven and a half One mass of every element, positive gas My knowledge is everlasting, read while I'm fasting The feats that I achieve will make a rapper retire Like Zachariah, my gun fire, sundry a raisin Blazing, the man, the Messiah, the fans admire My attire, rhyme supplier, some say sire My dialect's high tech, reliable Dressed in flesh, I'm just fresh Other rappers test vile and may God bless the child Cause I go the extra mile My style flex across the US Bringing forth the offerings of musical offspring Holocaust, my forces combine, I write a rhyme The planets form one line, all nine are mine (what?) Check it (yeah) Who are you? (I didn't know, son, I didn't know, what, yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah, yeah what?) Cause I go the extra mile (You son, who are you? What, the black prophet) [Verse 2: Ox] Ayo Roc I hear you talking But who listens? The prison's painted black with white lines son So I write rhymes and when the time's right I recite A plethora, check the messenger type with foggy nights And soggy Nikes, you're probably right yo And as a hobby, beast mugabi took flight Ignite grasslands, imagine if the frail and famine strike Picket and march like dykes, I can dig it Get your digits right It's quite normal and tonight dress formal Because the invitation's cordial, it's the disorderly I've grown to be more than glory My pop was on cocaine, my mom was on her own Grown slowly like Rogaine, the hope remains purely but Surely I hold pain with more soul than Trane He's not Worthy like James He got lifted like cranes, he sniffed it His brain shifted and he blames God's gift and explains To design these rhymes hard like times and it's strange Still my love for this game it feels strained like ligaments Predicaments change, the reign's infinite I am what I am by the grace of God Sons and daughters, the broken bridges over troubled waters When the clock strikes midnight you'll be rocking pinstripes Looking for insight, the pressure fits in tight So treasure these moments, in the dim lights Opponents far from homeless, yes the man's super, the Lane Lois Stack hoes like cold cuts yo, you know my focus Runs wild like jokers, drinks and coasters Life size posters of Air Man, the chairman Of the quotas keep you moving like boulders But rovers don't grow on trees The God's shoulders, have Rollers move copasetic so let it be kinetic Like energy and spread it It better be beheaded Come feathered like birdbrain The word game severed My birth name, Super-Boy The T-A-P planet The eagle has landed On top the El Dorados My pockets is avocado Don't follow, be a leader I swallow the medicine I sense the veteran is hollow But I disconcern yo They don't return when they borrow Tonight the Apollo, but tomorrow It'll be the prophet (yeah, yeah, yeah, who are you? The black prophet, like (here we go Hempstead, Long Island) Yeah, yeah, yeah, (gettin' busy like that, to the max) And who are you?)