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Artist: Jeru the Damaja
Album:  The Sun Rises in the East
Song:   My Mind Spray

*Premier cuts and scratches Jeru saying "My Mind Spray" for four bars*

I annihilate, as I articulate
Words of power, your ryhmes are unconfounding so death's your fate
Ostentatious genius, of rappin
Is mentally clappin to take hip-hop back, thats what's happenin
Proficiency and ingenuity
Plus more styles, than a Shaolin mon-es-tary
In poetry my formula's deadly
Bring your hypest man in your army another casual-ty
Slow like demise I crept on those that slept
Droppin my ryhme science like I'm Imhotep
Application of mind over matter
Made fools scatter, rhymes fatter, minds splatter
Your girl bend over and over and over 
MC's try to touch the Damaja but you just can't win
Excellent with the word play, you lay
Face down, when my, mind spray

*Premier does his thing again like only Primo can*

Thunder on your Dome with no help from Mad Max
Lyrics like hype tattooes go over the dope tracks
We booby-traps, all our inventions
We know the intentions of MC kleptomaniacs
Rap brainiacs have cardiacs soon after the attack
When it comes to ryhmin I slam harder than Shaq
Accomplish the bio-feedback, more complex than an almanac
Keep you up like an afrodesiac
Idealist not an opportunist
Don't molest no shorty still in all, I'm dangerous
Mentally you can't talk to me, hear me, or see me
You're not equipped
From, street blocks to cell blocks my vo-cals rock 
Do more work than a crackhead with a, toolbox
Jeru never touch-er, mic-ra-phone wrecker
If your honey's a Queen I'll sex her
More important, the mind strikes like the nine strikes
a priest by May
You reach for your uzay, when my mind spray

*Primo flexes that razor sharp turntable wizardry*

J-E, Rrrah-U it's a horror to you 
Lyrical kung-fu so do your kung-fu if you know kung-fu
Dirty, down low profile 
Shoot up jams without the aid of lead projectiles
Style's ridiculous, techniques infamous 
Take more heads than Santa Claus at Christmas
Science misfits, meet the rath of my wit
Immediately following, they go into a conniption fit 
Reach into my bag of darkness and spark this like an arsonist 
Blow up like a terrorist
I'm not a sexist dont have the power to be a racist
I'm a scientist, and an activist
Complex yeah simple like Mixelplics
Unlike the silly devil, I don't come with tricks/Trix
So out there to all you MC's return to the righteous way
Or meet death face to face when my, mind spray 

*Primo wrecks it like a 12 car collision*