Call of the Gods (Explicit) (其他)

Call of the Gods (眾神歡呼) - Buddha Monk/Ol' Dirty Bastard

You're savage wit below average non-solicited liquid cabbage

I blast quick televise it to those minds that's celebrate

Now document it on this day zu's gospel written

Yo Buddha I can hear you

Like Adam and eve where all fruit were forbidden

Sounds travels 1 123 feet per second

Enter my perimeter I'm a destroy all you sinners

Wrap around you like anaconda now ya voice box becomes volume

Test this bless this it's priceless

God cipher divine 5% I represent

Nation of gods and earths seeds original first

Sun moon and stars original black gods

Sixteen shades'll show and prove who you are

Sixteen gold basically when you were stole

Bought and sold and tossed all over the f**king globe

I won't fold better breathe just like ya cold

Six hundred years of yakub's 'fro matter

Motion and speed grafted seed break the spleen

If thirteen men enter the battle Manchu Mongolians

My evil forces within would tell me to kill again

You're savage below average non-solicited liquid cabbage

I blast quick televise it to those minds that's celebrate

Now document it on this day zu's gospel written

Like Adam and eve where all fruit were forbidden

Enter my perimeter I'm a destroy all you sinners

Wrap around you like anaconda now ya voice box becomes volume

I blaze tracks like lightning sh*t's frightening

I get hype just from the talk of fighting

Buddha monk manchuz B K plus the zu

Now who's gonna win this battle here I say you

There's your anti-thoughts though I see you fought slow

My motto get gold then f**k a ho

We got this sh*t locked yeah all in a smash

You get in the way feel the mega-ton blast ni**a

It started when them cats came back from the cave ni**a

Used to be slave ni**a now I'm brave ni**a

Hanging with gravediggaz and two gold triggers

Time to realize a mind body and soul is bigger

Got styles and miles of a new jersey drive

Pierce like syringes If it's war yo I'm in the trenches

Public enemy 1 hit the bank job done

On the run from c-cypher still serve pipers

Later that night I hit the club flick my Bic

Pick a chick I could creep with my life in containment

Still sell drugs with three arraignments

F**k it street money po-po blocking it

Gotta build legal conglomerates ain't no stopping it

Gotta feed and educate the babies

So I run rabid like rabies

Niggas can't f**k with my Grammy

If I was a b**ch I'd be a bad mamajama

Your music sounds like loops of fruit kicks dissolve

808 sore six doors American tale feeble calls

Was west pray to the east the sun don't rise plant ya feet

We eat ground turkey meat carnivore was tranqued

Original peach tree

Drunk-a** poetry in the clouds style

Zu assassins duck-lo quietly strategy outburst violently

Finitely Brooklyn displays how it was tooken

Tracks is utensils niggas stencil art

In war paint and perimeter was an open lane

Intoxicated blows is rugged like fatigue wearing hoes

Yo pick your play action

You get in the way feel the mega-ton blast ni**a

I cross ya a** like a sodomite in pale moon light

Cruz to me ya all sounding like b**ches on the mic

It's official verbal pistol ripping ya bone gristle

Invisible move like stealth missiles undetected

Catch it If ya can man listen sh*t is getting hot in my kitchen

Baking lots of chicken

With lord Buddha monk kicking a can of a**-whippings

It's a barbecue with ol' dirt and the zu bring the l- Iq

We gon' drink 'til we drop smoke pot from the finest w**d spot

You need not act like you insane I spit flames

Shame the devil and the demons in ya brain

Yo your raps brought back negative feedback

My mind explores at where your inhibitions is lost at

I sour tracks win beats flip through loops

I'm with an ace even If my style threw a deuce

I teach the truth to the youth

Before you should attack your central nerve system

Leaving brain damage and addiction

Through forced lyrical infliction reality's what you missing

Baby do you remember me from follow me

Just I-cee-equality with these thoughts

I leave explosions overdosing off the lord's potions

Got some sh*t delf-defined some sh*t I won't mention

You don't need to be trying

Make fake rappers don't wanna-be's

B**ches 'tract to the wacky meat

With this ghetto fashion actual faction

Beats flashing style fly like Jane flashing

Flows clashing holding this mic triangular

Freestyle strangler baby

Yo y'all muthaf**kas step y'all sh*t up