My brain's a replica of Mecca
My mind holds the secrets to Egypt
But however, I stay on some street shit
I write the scrolls on a hundred skulls
My cunning flow is stunning
Its like you're blunted, has you under control
Mumbling, to yourself while I'm confronting your soul
Priest the deity, meant to crumble the globe
My brain's a replica of Mecca
My mind holds the secrets to Egypt
But however, I stay on some street shit
I write the scrolls on a hundred skulls
My cunning flow is stunning
Its like you're blunted, has you under control
Mumbling, to yourself...