[Verse 1: The Last Emperor]
The microphone I won't abandon
It's become my constant companion
I use it like a sword just like the musketeer d'Artagnan
Or Jonny Quest when i flex like Race Bannon
And I'm offered to the highway to heaven like Michael Landon
But listen here, i drink beer but even when I'm sober
I hunt rappers like Sean Connery did Red October
I test flows, i learn black queens
I don't stress hoes
Never see me on TV stood in R&B rocking dress clothes
Does The Last Emperor have the best flows?
Cobra Commander couldn't make me answer
I'm hard headed like Destro
Wild animal, non flammable, you can't burn me
Don't concern me
Prosecute you like the district attorney
And that goes without cross examination
I'm the man you're facing
I use hip hop to slam the nation
I'll emerge as one of life's greats
When I'm on stage, I'm so enraged sometimes the mic breaks
I'm known to crush these fake emcees like they were rice cakes
For bringing shame to the game of rap like Tonya Harding did to ice skates
I don't play the role because I'm no actor
And like a protractor, rappers circle me but they're no factor
I possess mad chapters you can't adapt ta'
The emperor, uses that mind over matter
[Verse 2: The Last Emperor]
Allow me to state facts
First of all my lyrics date back to the time of Afros, discos and 8-tracks
It's been so long I can't record the date
But if Clinton is president now I've been rhyming since the Watergate...scandal
Supreme microphone vandal
I strip the microphone from emcees with no handle
Your lyrical Kung-Fu's no good, damn you (DAMNN)
Soldier more slammed you like Chief Wahoo Mcdaniels
I invade stages like foreign nations
I'm keeping other rappers out like America did to Haitians
My mind holds rhymes like hotels hold reservations
I'm a divine creation, can't touch reincarnation
Placin' rappers in a steel cage
Bringing forth my real age
23 years of the real rage
I just amped it, watch my lyrics run rampant
Slash like Wolverine and pull your card like Gambit
There's not a track my lyrics can't fit
Touch my mic and get your hands split
Rest In Peace to my man Rick
I drop prophecies like the book of revelations
Conquer seven nations and rise above emcees through levitation
Supreme rappin' keeps my foes yappin'
My ideas are so def that I should write my rhymes in close caption
What's the reason behind the ill rhymes I manufacture?
It's all mind over matter
[Verse 3: The Last Emperor]
Hip Hop is like a virus, full of vampires and pirates
But The Last Emperor is a black god like Osiris
So, know thy friends from thy enemies
Know the true lyricists from pretend emcees
I go from knowledge to warnin' about 10 degrees
And treat rappers like Boyz II Men and make em' bow down on Bended Knees
I may be past it, but never sweet nor attractive
Your body's free to move but your mental's held captive
I deliver speeches, telekinesis when i rhyme
I move crowds and solid objects with my mind
I get you open like a stockbroker's briefcase
Whether you're loungin' at a club or at your peeps place
Like star trek the next generation, the rude hip hop sensation
Don't need a nine to send your mind into deep space
While other emcees come up short like Napoleon
My rhymes are like Genghis Khan; the ruthless Mongolian
In combat, I be's the illest
I ransack and pillage
Huntin' down every rapper in your village
Recognize from the Atlantic to the Pacific
It's The Last Emperor who drops the ill, scientific lyrics
Can't you hear it overfly tracks on rhymes that are even fatter?
It's all mind over matter