Brimstone Rock - Jehst

How do expect me to sleep at night

Knowin my people ain’t eatin right

Gimme a mic, I’ll strike with heat like a meteorite

Fuck the media hype

Scribes sniping at me and mine

Megatron clockin Autobots with the eagle eye

They got you covered, eye colour to your sneaker size

Revolutionaries demonised, Mother Earth colonised

Stolen culture commodified

Modified genes, each regime modernised

Maximum terror, fear and efficiency

Military missionaries

New age crusades

Faith for your misery

Minds in the grind

No time to meditate on the mysteries of life

Can’t motivate, drive trapped in the traffic jam

Bare-knuckle boxing, brand new caravan

I m cat-a-walling like Margarita Prakatan

Til Sona Fam go platinum in Pakistan

And stack collateral

Watch the country bumpkin smash the capital

Smack the sabbatical, batter the biblical

Smooth I move as a criminal do

Beatin' me’ll take a miracle dude

I’m screwface in the mili-ist mood

Make you eat your greens

You ain’t leavin til you finish your food

My outlook is like a villainous view of the near future

Beer goggles bottle of brew and the punky brewster, puffin'

Taking your title, no discussion

Two shades darker Mr Parker on percussion

I m goin global so folk are all approachin' me locally

Hoping that I grab the mic, I’m like «Hokily dokily»

Straight Ned Flanders

Blaze trees and leave dead branches

I see red, think left — my mindset’s Marxist

Overstand and we’ll get past this

More talk and less carnage

Calm and peace

The future’s bright, the future’s the mark of the beast

And the devil with a smile is easily the hardest to beat yo

I’m here caving my niche so

I stand out from the damn crowd at the freak show

Find wifey and breeze

The system want me on my knees at ninety degrees

Picture that?

Hell no!

I m jet propelled by elbow grease and these squeaky Shell toes

Signing on until the twelve blows

And if it don t then it s back to the telephone sellin dope

Welcome to the terrordome

This is where we live

Street kids lookin' for a god to make peace with

Modern day beatniks

Beat digger jazz cats

Bag wax, barren lands

Bad man, mad max

Beyond the Thunderdome

Dope with the microphone

Dynamo charged up, spark up the hydropo

Blow out the ital smoke

Choke on a solar flare

Blue foot soldier stare colder than a polar bear