Far Greater lyrics

[Scratching]
You feelin' Outerspace n*gga lick two shots
We lettin' you know
You feelin' Outerspace n*gga lick two shots
Bow down to something far - greater

[Crypt the Warchild]
I'm word perfect, write my words in a worse curse
And emerge versus, tear this verse in the first person
Disturbed surgeon operatin' for those hurtin'
It's most certain that shows j*rkin' when my flows workin'
Most poetical, watch the game from a gold pedestal
Half man/raging bull when I stand next to you
Me & Plan identical, make it unbearable
The reason that you bleedin', the reason for needin' medical
No need to even threaten you cause talk is cheap
I breed my seeds ready to assault the street
Proceed to breathe heavy, get upon this heat
Let my lines acc*mulate inside a vault for weeks
My flows are sickenin' - I should be washed & bleached
I'm down to get it in you feelin' froggishly
Surround you spitter sins wit' a squad that's deep
The ground I fit 'em in, let the applaudin' teach

[Scratching]
You feelin' Outerspace n*gga lick two shots
We lettin' you know
You feelin' Outerspace n*gga lick two shots
Bow down to something far - greater
[Planetary]
It's me, the most evil verbalist alive
I'm sicker than one foot in the grave ready to die
My brain move, 'bout the same speed a train move
Disturbed world rap, pain moves you lame crews
Rage of angels, no wings crack halos
Smack devil's on payroll when heaven's gates close
I change clothes before rockin' a stained robe
My names gold, voice platinum my frame glow
My shoebox got 2Pac and Pun in it
I rock "Hail Mary" spittin' 'til the nuns get it
I done did it, after twenty five years
Five beers I'm buzzed, you sittin' wit' dry tears
The atmosphere's filled wit' debris & dust
My wordplay is nothing you emcees should trust
Bust back syllable gats blast triumphant
f*ck that, we killin' you cats black we run sh*t

[Esoteric]
Yeah, you know, it's Esoteric
7L on the fader

[Scratching]
Bow down to something far greater

[Esoteric]
Let me find out these little cats want it wit' Es
I'm at ya mum's rest, stompin' ya chest homie I'm serious
I see cats tryna get their cake up
Make a nickel, and prepare to be a dyme like make-up
The gladiator hit the ring for spars
You wanna rock, bring guitars
I can't watch the news, cause when I sneeze yo, I think it's SARS
To the point I can't think no bars, I just break ya balls
To the cats that cling to bars, to the ones in the mirror lip-syncin' Nas
I be shrinkin' stars, once I'm done wit' ya face
You gonna have to find a girl who got a thing for scars
I be liftin' motherf*ckers out their mink & cars
Then I lounge in bed, g'ahead count my bread
My Boston accent will pronounce you dead
Flip a rhyme like an ounce, make sure mouths is fed
[Scratching]
Bow down to something far greater *2X*