Black Lair (feat. Melody Betts)
Qwazaars going Pro, Blacker than Mutombo.
Nose poking thru the Black, layers in my wardrobe.
Got Holy Rollers low, lap dancing on my Gonzo.
Take off YOUR bible belt. Sit have a Convo.
Thinking things what they seem fabricates YOUR costume
PERCEPTION IS KING. YOU never know who’s the Diablo.
When YOU’RE electric the average lake will shock YOU.
In other definition: Perception is what’s Guides US,
Like premonition to a Psychic.
They say ‘YOU complex.’ ‘Man, YOU way too complex.’
So I gotta filter when I write it. It’s nonsense.
Feel like I’m here for something much greater.
Catching the Spirit like a ghost chaser.
My Image missing like I’m ghost-facin’.
But I’m no sound-alike Bronson.
Action, floating from my satellite conscience.
Con-science. They say WE ALL Vessels.
So I should pack it in my jacket but my jacket’s Full Metal.
OUR Glory unfolds with every lyric that I shoot
OUR Story untold like It Was Written by a (mute).
Believe None of what YOU hear, Half of what YOU See.
Some of what YOU read, between and underneath.
The lines hidden, fine printin’.
Finer than Solange Sister with ya Eyes squintin’.
Feels like we’re livin’ in a Time Capsule, visitin’ the Now After.
Travelin’ through Space and Time the Speed Sound Travels.
Mock Now, Bow Later.
We’ll see who’s standin’ by their Word when it all goes down, Frasier.
The Greatest. When they was passin’ out Labels,
I was movin’ the ground pavement.
The Lost and proFound statements.
These niggas don’t Hear me though they smokin’ on that LOUD baby.
Is HISstory repeating? Or WE just repeating His Story?
Art imitating Life or Life doin’ the mimicking? Haha.
House of Mirrors WE reflect the current imagery.
WE just feel The Spirit like WE hearing BeBe’s Sister sing.
CeCe. Carbon Copy.
May archaeologists find this armored body.
Learn from the past, never live in it.
Or burn into ash in the wind missin’.
from Libretto: Of King Legend, released 30 October 2012