Sun vs. Moon - Sage Francis

Th-the devil

Th-th-the devil

(repeat x4 then continues until settle their differences)

The devil only exists because of your belief in him

Same goes for that other guy

I believe the sun is simply reflecting the shine from the moon (word?)

Stealing its spotlight, they’ll have a cockfight at noon

To settle their differences

At midnight, rematch

To stir up their similarities on turntables

That chicken scratch proved to be unreadable

The determining factor in who gets the pitch to control the tides

No one decides a victor unless they give a fair listen to both the sides

We’re low-lives

We go blind jerking off to the eclipse

The sun was pulling cheap shots doing commercial body tricks

Behind the back

Under the leg

I think he even did a headspin

On a crossfader that sounded whack

What protection in All of the sudden it gets dim

The crater face steps in Puts mexican drumbreaks on the Technics

He’s like Let’s begin

He conducted an orchestra so dope the sun started sweatin’him

I guess he’d expected to win on pure artistic merit

Composing complex plays with nothin but soundbytes

Burned out the lights

Made MCs too self conscious quit the master mics

For a thousand nights

Continued without a single slip up Except once the record skipped

But it kinda sounded cool

And fit within the rhythm he was juggling

Poly-rhythms out of country western albums spinning

It is plain that he had come to win

But as always due to corrupt judging

They drew a tie

Now it’s do or die

The sun was like

no no no

The moon was like

go go go

And when the sun was chosen

I came to the conclusion

His dad doesn’t know what he’s doin'

God’s not a woman

He’s a big white guy in the sky

And the deserts are reflections of his eyes

He doesn’t cry for us But when he does

It’s cause he’s drunk

(Say What?)

God’s not a woman

He’s a big white guy in the sky

And the deserts are reflections of his eyes

He doesn’t cry for us But when he does

It’s cause he’s drunk

And he’s always fucked up Bottom’s up God’s not a woman

He’s a bitch

Th-the devil

Th-th-the devil

This is one hand clapping alone

This is the smallest violin

Run rabbit when they fight to kill your baddest poem

The devil is the fucking white man

This is one hand clapping alone

This is the smallest violin

Run rabbit when they fight to kill your baddest poem

The white man (the white man)

(Th-th-the devil)