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War in heaven 
is it peace behind the face 
If hell is an object 
Throw it out the way
And be done 

War in heaven 
Is it peace behind the face 
If hell
per second (m/s) in a vacuum. This speed is considered the upper limit for the speed of any object in the universe and is considered an absolute speed,
You are the artist prepping the canvas for new life
Role modelling the movement and technique
I'm lost while navigating the labyrinth of youth
Living
down, that's low ink
No toner, that's no print
But I'm modelling and I'm throttling
The shapes of which I think
Down the sink
I see him
I see sensors
falling and I can't turn back
I'm falling and I can't turn - I can't turn back
I'm falling and I can't turn back

[Verse 1 - Immortal Technique]


I once
cockpit uG
Superhero trained different
Jog with cars tied to my back
My frame different
My brain different, move objects with it
Gun cocked back
Blow your
the paranoia
A lawyer couldn't object or disrespect the technique
Sweat me, wipe off the sweat
Fight off the shit and flush the waste down
The pipes of my
the young cadets get stripes from the vets
And comrades quest to be the next, to fitness 
Collect debts and select bets with death threats
Object, chedder,
what's scared smell sight,
a swimming prizm's gray core
which one will erect a definition
for sheer bliss and set its sembelence sincere and object with
technique, I sweep under the rug niggas
Out of queens, shit I serve with the fiends and bug niggas
I'm above niggaz, but all in all, I love niggas
Like my
'cause I love ya'll regardless
For my chicks in the whips dancin' bra-less
Hair done, nice face, lookin' flawless
I got that thing, bust off, lead objects
technique?

Body map directs but the news isn't good
A glimmer of hope every second to third century
Awesome in beauty and awful intimidation
"I've falling in
is

A rock spending in space for no reason
(Below freezing)
So we study ancient technique of hugging the heater

Plugging the speaker won't turn it
to the registry
Now former colleagues are an enemy
US gunnin' for native objects, paranoid pockets pay for a false sense
Livin' just enough for the world in a small
rap it's a dead beat
Killer flow to technique
Spectators commentate with common hate and expect me
To fall short
But I parkour that barely
Grasp
Resting bitch face she was mean ain't nobody object
But when she calling for a need everybody reject
Always hustled with a need when her pockets was low
lies around the corner, explain-evolve

Archaic techniques of ecstasy practiced in the Crack between the world
What can you show me? Behind reality
Aside
the physical to the psychic
From the negative to the positive

Domination techniques exercising symbolic terror
Suspicious coexistence between freedom
To move inanimate objects by sound transmission
Make you go oblivious to your composition
Cause you're paying attention while I'm kicking

In fact, you're
Funny style Brothers than the Wayans
Irresistible force
Immovable object communicating with
Prophets and original natives
South American Mayans
Who
Objects i'll be honest: it'd be
Better to run like
P diddy through streets gritty or suburbian
Move in a hurry, and, toys
We be herbing them many people
Everything in the ghetto was how
It was made to be designed in a process
Prison Industrial Complex
Niggas transformed into numbers and objects
We pay the Devil
[Immortal Technique:]
Somebody talked shit to me in L.A. and never lived
'Cause brown roll deeper than red or blue ever did
I got bullets that'll
just pressed
Will be gripped by the DJ's fingertips
Slipped out of the crate, out the sleeve
Laid on the technique and played out my speak-ers
Ears glued

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