my 16s got the imagery of a sick fiend. or its an orchestra of carcasses picked clean scoring the story of this author. I spit scenes. the speed of mine is red line like an inf beam fuck a cool whip; I ain't about quick cream but you probably don't get what that shit means. Simply the government manufactures the doe out of thin air to keep us trapped in a hole we owe the i,m, and f trillions while american families keep writing their checks to pile up the debt while we stay up in a police state. god help us if they decide to collect with their guns kicking open our doors so i react like toussaint louverture over this overture throw 'em overboard at the white house like "what you think this gas and the torch is for? nigga, war.

ever since the nintendo was 8-bit, i stayed sick stickin duck hunt guns in faces of racists, like "take this" we was in stuttgart, far from hip hop i still did my first tag by age 6 missed out on the basics though temperal lobe had no template to create this flow from the states, tapes was flown in of my favorite cartoons cause base had only one station to view now it's just basically getting blazed as i pace in my room a different way to escape for a few far away from the places where the hatred's in bloom takin shape of the strangest of fruits. blacks hang in a noose from branches because they stay with their roots if you feel like a slave all day in your cube getting clocked by the cops making your moves, or paying your dues tell narcoleptics the next re-awakening's soon what happened to clapping in crowds without actually blasting the rounds? what happened to "black and I'm proud"? was that shit just back in the day? now its just actors and clowns now its just platinum in mouths now its just crack in their vials damn, this shit is a shame so follow me like eyes in portraits as i spit fire with geyser forces geiger counters clocking seismic pulses pick me up like forklifts off the scale; can't record this rawness ill effects with unexplainable causes between bars is code so scan it understand the subtext i planted like pot botanists before sweet chariot swing low like hammock the plan is to inflict damage to the system - leave no building standing kill evil with reckless abandon you sick ass sycofants' song and dance is transparent son i'm straight like san serif. i can't bear this shit any longer. so i'm shiftin into position ecclipsin your whole genre - its karma. what happened to radicals out trying to rally the town? what happened to challenging power? was that shit just back in the day? now this where fascists are found now this where grassroots are plowed what happened to malcolm was foul for showing us we're all the same

the beat drop - i grip it like zip lock at the practice range i spit glocks in case the militia gotta step up to displace the police force i'm bipolar; call me see-saw rise then i free fall - high; its like i'm riding an eagle but my eye lids low; its like they crawl on the seafloor the all seeing eye's in my peephole and the government is lovin genocidin a people on the sneak yo, we got our own darfur right here thats my word. like i coined it but fuck coins, the fed's poisonous can't list all the ways they're destroying us so fuck it, split up a dutch, stuff it, roll it, lick it, light it, and puff it there's nothin as smooth as moon wit percussion i bust it like breasts with messages for the public like PSAs like "please say ney to the club hits fuck a government, buck a bilderberg with a musket" in a land where the cops are robbers and they itch like fiends to pop us anything to impede our progress living in these days man in a land where the politicians didn't hesitate to give us syphillis anything to increase their riches living in these days man i must be another being. i had another dream black men chantin where klansmen hung from trees swing in breeze, it stuck wit me awaken and then bake cause it's far from what you see in the streets. fuck them picaninny niggas and shuffling feets i vent and get in touch with the beat i want to retrogress like its vintage arm up with a clinched fist - just like a monkey paw's fifth wish inhale, sprinkle the air with the spliff's piff but meditation won't change the legislation we lost control and we're letting satan shorty's head was braided double dutching - let a stray hit her and catch her brain and for a moment she levitated days darker than the red she laid in - eleven maybe twelve, and you tryin to tell me that this ain't a hell we stay in? but we aim the wrong way, send shells to the ones who made it in a land where this "white vs. black" shit is divide and conquer tactics see, reality is all theatrics living in these days man in a land where the media's owned by three white guys each with their own lies can't even believe what we see with our own eyes living in these days man they tried to hide, but I found 'em they're underground and enshrouded behind a cloud of propaganda and keeping us cowards a fucked up media balance, fluoride in fountains and their power's all-reaching so there's no where to seek an asylum unless its the mountains with tibetans and learning the lessons or with the aztecs in the jungles and burning the sess, so i murder each session with a verbalist's weapon its all a regression back to the ancestors blessings my project may address all of common's questions and jada's while i'm at it on a song with cedric trust me, that'd be a head trip somethin like "fear and loathing in vegas" please, your whole crew's the fakest your pussy posse is passe don't say shit get back to the basics if you ask me these days, kid - rap need a face lift i'm the surgeon and my mic is the scalpel to save it. in a land where the superficial is exalted over substance and soul project paper clip, the shit's official living in these days man in a land where it's all designed to distract and control your mind too moon's here to help us rise and climb through living in these days man

george orwell called the future's past before it happened so the fascist's plan wasn't as secret as they'd hoped it had been yeah, i scoped the bastards from under the nose of master [to] see what sort of tactics expose and decompose them faster so i smoke the hashish [to] cope with the fact the government's using brazillian guerrilla soldier torture tactics we need a new flood, and moon control the ocean's actions i see your level son, my consciousness is floating passed it with the urge to kill these words in hopes to kill the bilderbergs movements are underground, and son my sound is still submerged you can feel the words like poetry listen closely to my bars; you'll hear your third eye opening wordlife, certainly. my bars get into your bloodstream just like your vaccines' mercury that have stillbirths increase in the black third worlds to keep us down as they stack more currency

from breast fed to death bed i'm the best wit a message, eclectic, the wrong one to mess wit i read it in the isis papers - light the vapor whats the price of life if life is slavework so i spark, inhale and exhale i'm wit you marcus garvey, lets ditch hell and set sail its like i gotta get back in the booth to get back to my roots we're distracted to the fact the fascists are through so we sling rocks like sling shots and they get paid for each one of us in the bing, locked - you think not? their hustle's bigger than you running you rings, got retaliation's going to take more than you thing cocked the sound lingering in my ear is my inner demons schemin, won't they disappear? i am you, you are me i know it's deep, i'll explain it in my first LP, peace its tony moon, don't assume you can compare to him i'm bubblin hot like a spoonful of heroin rip an rapper wanna be fool playing heroine until my mama's room looks like a tomb in a pyramid rap from here to cameroon and then here again the spook who sat by the door, renewed and so very sick a stranger to myself, records playing what i felt i can't blame man for soliciting satan for his help cause i'm blazing strays with the same flames that's from his hell same reason why my soul's going insane up in this shell i bring lyrics to life spliffs got me hearing whispers at night smoke hangs like strange fruit obscuring my visions of life the plain truth? no prescription's fixing my sight [i'm] walking with a citizen's (c/k)ane while citizens fight admit it yo, this shit isn't right you've never heard a nigga spit some shit like this in your life i wear sunglasses inside, cause my eye's the window plus i can't deny yo, i'm high off indo you deserve to die if you don't ride for kinfolk despite they say the way i smoke la is sinful yeah, i b-b-b-burn the herbage it helps me transcend like a whirling dervish your words are worthless compared to my verses' verbiage aspergillum to purge the earth wit so subversive hear beats and get an urge to murk it, hotter than an urban church is with the erk & jerk (E&J), i'm swirvin drive to the spot, then like lurch, i'm servin hot 16s not them birds you lurk wit i'd rather have the ones in the skirts that're chirpin jerks lying about puttin work in, its curtains i'll amber alert your children, you hear him?

they say the brass on my african masks keep the ghosts away but at night i hear what the ghostses say, they tell me to flow this way revolt and save your folks from pain sandwich niggas trying to be heroes catch an open face so i'm underground like its opus dei - i hope for days we don't have to give the homeless change elusive as the memories i've smoked away the smell of dead first borns and locust plagues, pagan stars and the cycle of solar rays swim in my dome for days organize it all and spit it in the poems i play i hope the heart and the mind can both relate mentally, spoons get bent when i'm stoned like ben grimm high - it's like i'm flying on the wing - i'm a gremlin trying to sabotage the system from within its more than black and white when i strike to avenge kin this is not for the masses and its not for the passive the fact is, we're different fabrics in the same tapestry this is not for the masses this is for those with a passion into takin some action this ain't what it has to be burn the system down i'm sick of sittin down if it comes to spittin rounds i'm gon' do it - thats the only way i know to start a movement i should stop smokin, i'm too lucid the government's proof's got holes like that d12 crew kid their smoke and mirror illusions? i see through it though they keep tappin my rappin i keep movin with speech proven to be deadly in deep medleys - i'm the rumbling in the beast's belly tryin to purge like an olsen twin sister's urge like the opposite of the urge you get from herb in other words, like another language one shouldn't have to die without first knowing love and anguish so i bring both to you in lyrics i sculpted and painted shared with the sheeple uncut and and untainted i write a verse, descend from the air and say it in aramaic - properly prepare the pagans for the rap space invasion, sacred sayings preserved in caves in cases tone tucked away his pain and anguish in ancient language step on stage and he'll blaze you with his laser larynx blazing haze 'til his brain's the clearest destined for fame, my flare's the rarest while rap cats chase tiaras son i'm here to change the game like che guevera i swear i'm so quick to test a crew bobby fisher in a world of checkers duke you've never had no compilations, yes its true but tony moon is still getting the best of you the last standing until the cia claps me in the back while i was lampin like fred hampton

yes, he's back - it's the asthmatic hash addict one who fell in love wit rap and had to take a stab at it like oj, smooth as the ojays "moon's got the mood of the old days" is what the folks say something like coltrane, but drunk off the propane my mixtape? nothing but (four/fore)play like four square when we were four man spitting it so clear with syntax compared to voltaire's, yeah i spit 16 bars like shakespearean sonnets that blend better with the beat than tangeray wit the tonic its just the insane way i get on it but if i hear one more rap about crack or cane i'm gon' vomit him insane - something in his brain is demonic how else are you explaining his logic catch me with the spray paint, train bombing like MI-5 did in july without blaming islamics tony moon's the jean toomer of rap the one man new negro movement is back spittin written revolutions on tracks sodium pentathol in his pen is how he keeps nothing but the truth in his raps i see my people straying fast, and change to maniacs as a ways to rake the cash in the government's enslaved the masses to the point where we take from our brothers' plate to break our fastin shiny objects is where our brains are fastened the media portrays me as an ape and savage an ex-slave saw shackles and faints to blackness now thats what the fuck i call a chain reaction all of this is sad to say though but i can't let this passion lay low so i'm going against the masses' say so like an african galileo to end the track, i blow a cloud in the wind burn the dutch like a holocaust survivor out for revenge the combination of my mouth with this pen will have a fountain of crim- son blood spouting out of your skin i've been moving crowds, like the towers did, since i had ta become a house slave to poison the master any challenger tryin to spit wit the moon ends up like the Challenger trying to get to the moon, boom i come through with two glocks aimed like boondock saints i suggest you start praying if you not saved shallow? then the gallows is where you might hang cause rap's got crackers thinking all we do's cop cane admit it kid, who's as sick as moon? you miserable with these niggas who whore scores, ignoring the true lyrical so i'm slippin messages in lyrics like spirituals evidence of ellison's description of invisible

to the people came a savior - touched by the hand of the maker who spoke truth, demanded a change up perceived by the man as a danger his words made me feel like our plasma's the same blood they crucified him and defaced him, utter debasement ever since then, its like his blood has been tainted but still unconditional love is an understatement cause hip hop, you're the one i put my faith in i sit to reconcile realities at hand what's "hypocrisy" i call "duality of man" i rap to reach the fans perhaps to get scratch to feed the famm this is what happens when passion meets a plan i'm nice verbally - litotes - not hyperbole try servin me, my flow pop your vertebrae moon - trust you will have heard of me soon when wack emcees start turning up in emergency rooms the fervor was fueled amidst mason dixon racist confederate flag wavin bitches made it out faith untwisted those who can't face the fact fake with fiction it makes me sick when pigs make us victims it makes me wanna decorate the fuckin pave with chit'lins i suffer the same afflictions a salem witches when i speak the turth you get confused between insane and gifted

moon's a monster, ripping through crews - just ask i got the scooby doo crew confused when they can't remove the mask do the math, who's creeping through the grass with an ax stalking out the wack and the trash? mr. moon. the next victim hit the booth he's got diamonds in his tooths and not spittin the truth i broke in, got in it smooth killed the engineer he got chopped for choppin and screwin - i'm not in the mood cut the power, it got dark in the room without photographers, dude rhymin musta lied to look cool cause it wasn't a glock that he pulled, he tried to escape but his fake chains got in the way - i watched him fall on his face i displaced the mic machete from the case on my waist another disgrace is erased blood and brains painted the place in the chase cause i kill for this game like jason for his lake, get it straight not just emcees, we murder mi(c/ke)s burn 'em like we want a new pepsi commercial like we heard that life is much more than the absurd and trite the murder life's got us lurkin in the murky night

because of reagan, my cousin get thrown into prison cause the dope's in his system for whites its a "disease" while we gettin 16 free labor as slavework for pay dirt and quick cream and its sickening, so i smoke more blacks than white cops y'all don't see it's deep like a cyclops my pop's other son's my brother - i didn't get to know him and now he's got a younger one, a son, and he doesn't get to know him thats why they call this cycle vicious, but it's not important compared to my man b. blanco's rhyme flow which seemed ta mock his leukemia you could see it up in his eyes before he died yo that was on my mind yo, along wit a high dose of hydro, hennesey, and hypno, when i drove my car into the other car's side door the cop said the doc said the other kid might live and he might go

you can catch me in the dark with a square and a high life wondering what a ray charles heroin high's like was told straighten up, fly right but still remember a couple times i prayed to survive nights but i'm right here, and its clearer than hindsight my words possess your body, its azazel when i write maybe thats why i feel out of place like i'm fly guy surrounded by slaves to the lime light rhyme's a battle field littered with fallen authors corpses adorn warpaths, of lost and conquered warriors. by thoughts, i'm haunted undaunting displays like beatrix breaking paula's coffin so i blow a cloud like the opposite of cunnilingus on a cumulonimbus jesus as my witness, misconstruing the business'll get two in your midriff twitchin - that's how i get when when the restlessness kicks in twitchin - that's how i feel just itchin, waitin while these vets is slippin twitchin - i vent the friction with pens and diction twitichin - and when i spit it my lyrics leave you twitchin like nicotine addictions so i spit like a slave in the face of his master no way you could capture the wave of this rapture more words than a tv display with the caption who else maniputlates language as accurate? blacker than weed resin - from where crackers have seisure fits as soon as blacks with cash'll start creepin in maybe its the tetrahydrocannabinol, but i feel like the invisible man with a cause cause my shit's deep - listen and join in i want y'all to feel what i feel like we're all conjoined twins after a sip of the poison, your boy's in flow mode with lines that get in minds like freud did cause right now i see a culture that's exploited and i'm here to help my people avoid it so here's a ticket to hell for ya i got more bars in more places call me cingular cellular mr. moon - before i sign off - let me make a couple more lines with my mind's thoughts deeper than mein kampf i'll leave you leaking, sleep in an iron horse like vincent i guess your battling collateral was insufficient admit it, tone's flow's so electric one touch'll leave your afro like cornell west's the stresses and pressures is niente, nada gotta do this shit to lift my kin from squaller and it makes me pimp the system harder but not getting pimped by the system's harder so i live with this problem it ain't that bad though cause i fuck wit the cash flow blacks here are as about as american as castro and i know its not just me who wanna take it back, yo not back like platforms, but back like what blacks own or should - since we built it up on our backbones

moon - livid as a bitch - sick of sittin back why can't y'all see the music system exists to cripple blacks? its a fact - just listen to the niggas rap every bar on every track's bitches, gats, or pitchin crack but it's actually white executives in positions at labels who say who's the nigger to get some scratch deliberate decisions perpetuate the stigmas that reinforce ignorance in crackers that cop the shit from racks so i'm gonna bring it back back to underground resistance tactics training in basements like '60s blacks this kid who grew up where auschwitz is at can't grasp how every crack house is a krakow where cops don't just pat down, they blast rounds its a holocaust and all's lost playing the background if y'all can't spit the poetry and see that it's supposed to be different guess i gotta get in where i fit in build up babylon - this ain't no new shit build up babylon - did the same wit the jewish build up babylon - who cares what the truth is? no need for movements - do what your doin build up babylon - your hammer and chisel build up babylon - is the crack and the pistols build up babylon - isn't it easy? kick up you feet and turn on the tv the truth that i deliver's only a sliver they kill ya if you go against the flow of the river 'n thrown in you chisel the globe is a prison, open the prism, let the light soak in your vision the only hope for this system's no more religion and diluted media and knowing all the people are the same depsite spech, creed, or fuckin street you from so at tony's funeral, they wanna know who showed the truth to you i is the 1 like roman numerals fuck christianity, not jesus and fuck islam but not the muslims fuck judaism but not the jewish it's all based off of the druids fuck christianity, not jesus and fuck islam but not the muslims fuck judaism but not the jewish we're really all the same human build up babylon - this ain't no new shit build up babylon - did the same wit the jewish build up babylon - who cares what the truth is? no need for movements - do what your doin build up babylon - your hammer and chisel build up babylon - is the crack and the pistols build up babylon - isn't it easy? kick up you feet and turn on the tv i'm just like y'all, building it up, brick by brick stitch by stitch - infants implanted with chips shit, they even fingerprint the innocent to keep us locked up in this shit radar cameras clipped on blimps see it all, shit they see through walls now, we ain't slick with tints then they wonder why this kid's incensed, intense, and militant on these instruments half huey/half hippie rap like the apparition of nat turner's up in the lab wit me pillage villages and thrash cities revolt and get the downtrodden masses to stand with me from a town where cops the ones who clap quickly and you gotta watch you ass around them cats that act shifty we all desperate for more like desdamona in that tragedy but i see the barrells of crabs tipping build up babylon - this ain't no new shit build up babylon - did the same wit the jewish build up babylon - who cares what the truth is? no need for movements - do what your doin build up babylon - your hammer and chisel build up babylon - is the crack and the pistols build up babylon - isn't it easy? kick up you feet and turn on the tv

moon, the schitzo kid wit the sick flow each persona rip shows just like he r.i.p. old homies six whole feet low wit a headstone by pouring out his sips yo, right where his kicks go COINTELPRO ain't gettin me, hell no though they sent malcolm, king, and kennedy shells yo well known no where, but causin a swell so ain't know sellin out like i'm the host of chappelle's show mello(w), but don't rock the blue and the yellow blame it on the shots of the vodka and jell-o plus the herb that we blaze, the furthest from sane ever since i first murdered refrains, you've heard of the name "mr. moon", if you ain't heard it, then hey welcome to the reveal of the masquerading and charades assassination of the fake and the match that's finna set this fascist ass nation ablaze

follow it, 12-21-12, just like the prophets said apocalypse had popped off, so many are gone and dead caught some off guard, some called it like the mayans did but i ain't see christ, white lights, or horsemen riding in actually it was much to ill to describe so just for the sake of time let's say we fought for higher consciousness the dominant purchasin prominence tarnishin the artistry? they were now exposed for all the farce in it to the coffin went the fm dial execs and power structured toppled like the berlin wall urban squaller sparked a new renaissance in parks is where the darts now determined heart it's like a gift has been given - light a spliff if you wit a world where a real emcee is now the new religion the paradigm has shifted and the illness has risen sake, c, and tone - the future - turn it up if you wit it. dig it.

the prison industrial complex is just a new auschwitz if you ask me, and it fucks up my conscious so catch moon puffin a long spliff thinking the world ain't change much since the beast got it's clutches upon it for instance post-9/11's post-reconstruction - we still fuckin wit lynchins - up in our districts and minstrels are still integral to the way the media can fuck up an image and muslim americans grouped in as terrorists is just a new red scare like "boo, where's your period? phew shit, girl, there it is" and all of their lies are thinly disguised due to their arogance hidden in plain site, cause them two towers that was hit by them planes's like hitler setting his reichstag building aflame, trying to blame poland, aiding his campaign to invade. why are we tricked by the same lies? its deja vu let's rewind and review deja vu, haven't i seen you in a past life? cause it seems to me everything seems to be recycling and repeating from a past life where the blunt smoke hangs in the air i see the face of a hung slave in despair - blood smeared in his tears told my heart to be as fearless as his then i realized that the breath i'm breathin is his the weed in the spliff takes me back to egypt with glyphs i must've been a scribe - i see papyrus and a reed where i sit it explains why i'm a visual learner and why i lean to the pen - not the burner i journey through the firmament a little bit further - see another past life must've been a feudal serf, viewing earth through sad eyes that's why i'm anti-establishment and chastise injustices like "fuck the pigs" - they itch to take a black life this weed is pungent and wet, i feel it in my lungs with each breath saw myself as a young monk in tibet self immolatin - hatred's under protest and just then the weed smoke stunk of my flesh each life ends abruptly with death i guess i'll catch you in the next one son, because i'm done with the sess each life ends abruptly with death i guess i'll catch you in the next one son, because i'm done with the sess its deja vu let's rewind and review deja vu, haven't i seen you in a past life? cause it seems to me everything seems to be recycling and repeating from a past life we a scarred nation upon reincarnation, know spirits is swimming through us all fuck the matrix and disregard hatred as we spiritually evolve we a scarred nation upon reincarnation, know spirits is swimming through us all fuck the matrix and disregard hatred as we spiritually evolve its deja vu let's rewind and review deja vu, haven't i seen you in a past life? cause it seems to me everything seems to be recycling and repeating from a past life

so let's burn the vatican down by setting fire to the pope's catholic gown burn turin, and wipe my ass with the shroud make every mosque crash to the ground turn every jewish temple into shrapnel and clouds its the only way out - pow - thats one from the heater ta everyone involved with the media i keep it up, until the people buck - no story, its a fact i blur the line between poetry and rap identify exposure to their trap, i got your back i'm trying to smoke weed and stat, buy a sack orion's mapped astrologically to the pyramids in giza b but still constantly they lie to me so i keep the burner on the side of me to burn bush like god, moses, and the fire tree fire trees up - let's get higher b, vibe wit me and we can steal music back - call it piracy