Testi Metatron One - The Constructus Corporation

Metatron One

So uh… Who’s your target market here?\nUmmm… Bitches.\nHard hitting\nWhen I step to the mic and start spitting\nFreaking motherfuckers like some suckers getting freaked by the preacher man\ndoing god’s bidding\nCry to the angels\nThe stars explode tonight\nMetatron one I been known to get the job done\nWe on some intricate, intimate, innocent, infinite, inner-shit\nIf we start something we finish it, our ability is unlimited\nIsn’t it, oh yes\nI can process no less than a thousand thoughts Every one-tenth of a second\nYou still sitting on a see-saw\nOur alien tech makes your g4 seem slow like Eeyore\nYou teach your computer to rap, I got light raining on my brain\nCheck these heads glued to the track all the night waiting for the train\nMy water-soluble, molly-coddled molecules submerge themselves deep inside a sea\nof post-imaginative psyche\nWhere matter doesn’t matter then I materialize and come crashing into your\nsphere\nWith a nice, juicy tongue-lashing for your ear\nMetatron one I been known to get the job done\nWe enjoy an electronic, symbiotic existence between here and Avalon\nWhile you babble on about Babylon always trying to get the battle on\nOur little green lanterns illuminate a very, very vast sea\nWe see patterns mentally mutilated people can’t see\nThe lyrical spell-caster\nStrapped with a fully stacked mystical, biblical hell-blaster\nYou mystified by the cyto while my ectoplasm is a much darker texture\nAs I reflect the effects of this evil architecture\nStunting our expansion, so I’m making sure that you feel this Like a man-made\nphantom, psychosomatic illness\nOnly difference is this shit is as terminal as bad timing\nKeep refining your vertical alignment till you reach my island\nMetatron one I been known to get the job done\nThere’s no such thing as out of bounds\nThe death-walkers moving in and out of realms, electro-magnetic shields up\nWe always on-line, even when we catching shut-eye\nUnfazed by restrictions inflicted by days gone by\nI sit still as cast iron, watching my star-shine, exhaling for the last time\nDeciphering ethereal material from imperial archives\nPermanently upgrading my temporary hard-drive\nThe agents of the dark-side can’t hide\nPlus their voodoo can’t find anyway to penetrate these calm minds\nLike some self-imposed metaphysical apartheid\nAt the end of the day this beautifully maintained body’s not mine\nThat’s why I step to the mic and rock like I just dropped by\nMetatron one I been known to get the job done