[Immortal Technique]

My rhymes are harder to digest for money
Than coke balloons in a Colombian broad's tummy
You fucking dummy, I'm like a firing squad
You get a empty feeling like you lying to God
Lucifer status, you goin' crazy like crack addicts
Acid tabs, mad hatters and talking jack rabbits
Pack an automatic, you don't know me money
I'll smack the shit out you like you owe me money
Immortal Technique, body strapped up with plastique
Leave a crater like a meteor landed in the street
My presence, еven backed with an essence stays hard
Like fucking on a Native American graveyard
My peoples spirit still stands defiant
Until America falls and they stand in triumph
Lyrical Nephilim giant, Look me up in the bible
The son of the son, Genesis 6
Homicidal