Camu Tao - This Year lyrics

[Verse One: Camu Tao] We come as foreign elements to the global terrain Cla**ed as autotrophs cut off, alienated cloth that was coarse Course the cut was created by fate To sew us on this plain poetry plane which lacks pattern [Copywrite] Bust atoms of a higher fabric We're genetically embedded through skulls of all icons "Mhz" - Redman To increase by miles [?] You remain infinite till the final minute of existence escapes [Camu Tao] At the genetic lab [Scratching] "That's right" [Verse Two: Camu Tao] I'll design a shrine of 409 formulas to shine My phallus is catalytic Where the rebel lyric is [?] is a force to mimic I'm porsalinic I'll blow the spot like pro lifers at an abortion clinic Drop to drop pop, snows sparking these scarecrows Mind from lecture Agents ordinar', extra I'm next to rock a crowd full of Helen Kellers Scores of megaforce that players wanna show with my n***a Cellus Fellas tell us syllables stung the tongue practitioner When my product is purchased by devout solicitors Service Soon doom it's instructor My blast murder deputies and the sheriff run for cover Any of minor mistakes I abuse breaks Like bad fast food employees Needing some poise while the young lack On drum tracks so if you come wack I throw stacks of rhyme Frisbees Releasing thumb tacks Until you run back into your sector As you expect to stop me when I'm on a roll like Rhode Scholar Mutes holler I liquidate this style and lethally inject felony criminals An unclinged syringe Matter I want more data that'll blast ya to Madagascar Laugh at the actors mask after extra atom that'll battle my ladder I'd rather Take an unnecessary breath, show that I'm still human Assuming you thought I had the lungs of two men [Hook] This year We implant fear in your ear This year And doing a foreign affair You never hear our voices inside the club unless we're there Cause this year "s**ers are going nowhere" - Gang Starr 'I'm The Man' This year We implant fear in your ear This year And doing a foreign affair It's the MHz on this sphere to rule hip hop Cause this year "This is where the bullsh** stops" - Rakim 'New York' [Verse Three: Copywrite] Inventors of the mic Had me in mind When they came with the prototype I made 'em redesign They came back but with the vinyl draft I feed it my Intelligence and redefine the elements At the speed of light Incredibly Alphabetically Manage to come before you/U like the letter T You better be at least twice my mental strength Don't violate I put an end to the weak/week like Friday I'm been rhyming way before Dr. Dre had a Dogg And even back before The Source became a fashion catalog "Where'd it come?" From the abyss from which I emerged How could you claim precision with words When your vision is blurred Enter the center of ciphers, your mic will be simmered and burnt For ten minutes worth Of a venomous engine at work You primitive beings should quit MCing and finish your work Before my crew gets a chance to finish you first [Hook] {x2}