[Mr. J]

I'm the ghost in the machine, hosting the dream
disposing of thieves, open-ended tales cloaking the theme
for those who boasted of beef, vegetarians...hoping to eat
incarcerating these suckas, behind these bars elope with a tree
til you fall from the height you claim & you choke in your seat
asphyxiating your hopes of being hard, die, die in your sleep
a beast, king of my jungle, and I'm a fucking lion in heat
did em' like Suge did Pac, that's where I been driving this thing
the golden child, Atum-Ra, the night is the silver lining to me
been what you trying to be, living life outside society
with the optics of Providence, triangulating the impossible
pretentious brewery, got your pride waiting to be bottled
hospitable father, welcoming you to the collection in the armory
gotta be...something else for you to touch me, heterosexual monogamy
get off of me, I'm on another diagnostic pattern sent from Saturn
keeping their heads ringing out of a lavish sense of my mastering...
what I produce alone should cause a rupture in the planet...
a local disaster plastered over the news discussion surroundin' the rapture
the damage alone would cause mother earth to gulp a morning after
same road, different trail, same hand that put quarters in a wishing well
will...wish them well, pat their heads, say a prayer then give them hell..
mu'fucker don't tell me nothin' bout it...