before i bless the mic, peace to the god, Ra;
an my dj, doin work behind the wheels like ptah;
beats is clay, still, what we build is monumental;
only built for nubian sphinx, ankh, my rollie presidential;
plus i iced out the flail, use my crooks for jux;
rule by divine birthright, got the earth, like, shook;
word to amon, unseen, i'm outta sight, at night;
but make procession from the east, bless the least with my light;
whoever got beef, i got an army that's pursuin 'em;
ancient ruin 'em, ayo, that's word to khufu an nem;
don't play us, heavy is the head with the uraeaus;
true playas, soothsayers say its best to obey us;
but still i keeps it trill, run the streets w/ my folk;
one love, tutankhamon, aka, Young Smoke!






peace & blessings,

x.

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** i move away from the mic to breathe in