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Artist: Immortal Technique f/ Diabolic
Album:  Revolutionary Volume 2
Song:   Hidden Track
Typed by: *

* send corrections to the typist

[Immortal Technique]
Oh, y'all motherfuckers thought it was over, huh?
Well, it's not. You didn't count on the fallen angel
getting back into the grace of God and coming after
you. Y'all niggaz ain't shit. Your producers ain't
shit, your fucking A&R ain't shit, I fucking wipe my
ass with your demo deal


Go ahead and grip glocks, I'll snap ya trigger finger in 6 spots
You'll have to liplock with hypodermic needles to lick shots
I watch you topple flat, put away ya rings and holla back
Can't freestyle? You screwed off the top like bottle caps
Beneath the surface, I'm overheating your receiving circuits
By unleashing deeper verses than preists speak in churches
But your preach is worthless, your worship defeats the purpose
Like President Bush taking bullets for the Secret Service
Beyond what y'all fathom, shit on cats and jaw tap 'em
Show no "cum-passion" like havin a strait-faced orgasm
Tour jack him, have his half-a-ten bitch suck my friends dick
In the mean time, you can French kiss this clenched fist
Diabolic, a one-man brigade spreading cancer plague
Fist-fucking a pussy's face holding a hand grenade
So if I catch you bluffing, faggot, you less than nothing
I just had to get this stress off my chest like breast reductions

[Immortal Technique]
You motherfuckers are nothing, you cannot harm me
I'll ressurect every aborted baby and start an army
Storm the planet, hunting you down, 'cause I'm on a mission
To split your body into a billion one-celled organisms
Immortal Technique will destroy your religion, you stupid bitch
You faker than blue eyed crackers nailed to a crucifix
I'm 'bout to blow up like NASA Challenger computer chips
Arsenic language transmitted revolutionarily
I'm like time itself, I'ma kill you inevitably
Chemically bomb you, fuck using a chrome piece
I'm Illmatic, you won't make it home like Gerome's niece
I'll sever your head diagonally for thinking of dissing me
And then use your dead body to write my name in calligraphy
This puppet democracy, just brainwashed psychology
So you're nothing like diversity without equality
And your crew is full of more faggots than Greek mythology
Using numerology to count the people I sent to Heaven
Produces more digits than 22 divided by 7
You like Kevin Spacey, your style is usually suspect
You never killed a cop, you not a motherfucking thug yet
Your mind is empty and spacious
Like the part of the brain that appreciates culture in a racist
Face it, you're too basic, you not going to make it
Like children walking through Antartica, butt naked