Holy Profits (feat. Tragedy Khadafi) [Remix]

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Featherbonedtm

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I move like strange forces
Bullet proof courses
Immaculate bosses
Disciples on pale horses
Nemesis
Squeezing a mac
From a black pegasus
The game
Follow my rap lines
Just like a methodist
Rose and holy grails
Guns I'm blowing still
Lines I spread them
Like viruses
Through your mind
I'm ill
Contagion
Biochemical spills most real
I burn the church
Slay the pope so he won't tell
My projects is
Jail cells
Parallel to hell

Behold pale memories
Met the best ones
In places they sent me
This horseman
Remember vividly
Six flat
Little brother
Bring dad to visit me
Stay shining
Handling business
Nonchalant
In front of liars
Chose as states witnesses
Truth rise up
Spork in a cup
Immortal calibration
Unravelling
Propagation
T.V. news stations
Juxtaposed b roll
Drip fed to people
Intravenious salience
Mental I.V. status
Latticework
Fear fakeness and
False hope
Perceived as credible
Hardest things I found
I stumbled on and
Fed it to you
Mistakes equal
What I became
Failings frowned upon
Snakes ravens and stars
Totem my arm
With the scars
Cradle to the grave
Led dayroom
Meditation ciphers
Staring out through
The bars for
Thousands of yards

Riding shotgun with holy prophets
I invade a pond
Yeah I been a don
Never sell out
Like Robert Johnson and viacom
Lines of firearms
Held by a million Saddams
Destroy and conquer
Wash niggazup
Genghis Khan

Fire eventually
Make its way
Flame through hills
To fourth reich wineries
Nothing new under the sun
World disorder
Centuries long slaughter
Mismanagement of water
Stealing the kings daughter
Sons visited by
Sins of the father
My scroll fragments
Not made to order
For new world markets
Kick in your door start it
How you come
Hands on your head
Or fingers inside
Trigger guards of
Your guns of brixton
Actions got to match
Personal convictions

Crucifixion
Iron nails
In the bellies of whales
Deceased demons on the
Faces of all of their bills
The tongue of man kills
And nations get divided
Over a conscience a lot
While your flesh rotten
My ambience
Like Ponce de Leon
Just with a higher conscience
Holdin llamas under both armpits
Screaming jihad
Riding shotgun with holy prophets

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