(Hook)
[Verse 1: R.U.I.N.]
Writing the future a letter/ with the tip of a feather/
Dipped in the bowl of ink/ this what my soul think/
Sitting on a tripod/ listening with my IPod/
Like a modern Nostradamus/ “Oh my God/ What's this!”/
It was so strange but the angels told me to shut up/
Grabbing my wrist/ ‘stop with this/ that's too much, that's enough!'/
I ignored/ and stored/ the books in Alexandria/
But they burned the library, so I panicked and stuff/
Now how was I to put messages on records? /
Now how was I to spit for the streets and give lectures? /
I could provoke the reverends/ or smoke the herb's incense/
But none of it could match the mystic very first breathe/
So I went to the river, where I could hear Orpheus/
But behind his rhythm/ was the goddess of wisdom/
Of course it's/ Artemis and she had the sharpest wit/
She approached me and she whispered to my sad heart this/
(Hook)
[Verse 2: R.U.I.N.]
She was right, so I tried to recollect, what she said/
To write it down again/ memory's not a friend/
So I went/ to Jerusalem, to pursue what was/
Their scriptures and their oracles of their prophet's luck/
I saw one priest with book, ‘Let me take a peek at those!'/
The titles were Jeremiah and Ezekiel/
They spoke about hearts of flesh instead of stone/
And I said I wrote/ something like that prose/ ‘Woah, woah, woah!' / Look at that prego/ teen running with her water broke/ No/ husband? Wait! You love to go/ slaughter hoes/ with stones? /
Damn! That's cruel/ so I knelt to the sand to write the rules/ The commandments you should treasure like j**els/ you mad fools! /
Who are you to declare justice/ and cause a ruckus! /
You say you can't touch this/ I say you can't judge this/
So I knelt and wiped her tears off her cheek with my shirt/
‘Your worth/ much more than their slurs/ gave comfort and told her/
(Hook)
[Verse 3: R.U.I.N.]
Had to continue with the journey/ but I worried/
Michael J. Fox, Back to the Future, in a hurry/
To tell them the lie of the Matrix/ with my thick codex/
But now that those pages are gone, my soul so so vexed/
A message/ spoken a lot/ not/ often listened to/
For ancient mythical times and what we living through/
Man oh man, it filled my head with just such amazement/
The words were as sweet as honey and I can taste it/
Thunders/ uttered/ the wonders/ of creation stuttered/
God himself made a toast, and I pa**ed him the bu*ter/
Normally I'm talkative/ about apocalypse/ But the doors to hope were opened wide and locks were split/
The depressing mad cynic became an optimist/
Then God handed me the book, ‘Ain't no one stopping this!' /
From the prophets of the wilderness/ to 2Pac's lips/
The Hip-hop prophets/ got it/ and God told the world this/
(Hook)