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Artist: Wisemen f/ Killah Priest, Vast Aire
Album:  Wisemen Arrived
Song:   Iconoclasts (Remix)
Typed by: Cno Evil, DaSun Akbar

[Killah Priest]
I spit it, these lyrics are vivid
Their pictures on project walls
Twelve feet tell, hell greets y'all
Fire brimstone, the writer, grim poems
Edgar Allen Poe with the flow
Goes with the silencer, upon the cold nozzles
Of the four-four caliber, *shot shot*
No more challenger, bullets show like Gallagher
Ink pens in my hand, like a spray paint can
The canvas is your mind, the black Michaelangelo
Hands are sculpt, the Eiffel tote, the mics I broke
Residue leads to a trail, another Priest tale
Death I brewed, the witch-lord-king, that rip off wings
When I spit 16, it gets extreme, explicit scene
No more dreams, just cold screams happening
Re-occurring rappers wanna perform, they need insurance

[Bronze Nazareth]
My cyclone poems fix the roof of the Superdome
You crash your plane in my building, just tryna get on
And it's a vein, cold rain, write my words in propane
Keep the heat in store like the stoves of Maytag
Carry more blades than grass in your yard, grab your rake
I'm original, man on the take, burn it and shake
Roll them, blow them, the solar fell out the blood bank
The Wu-Fam armory, my beats got bodies
Know to roll you in the grave, with the tip of a shotty
Pasadena lobby, bullet holes from robbery, probably
Veins made of cobblestone, bitches go home wobbly
Capture life like photographs, double stuff hash
Pure mid-serious grim, with verbal whiplash
From the fetus to the oversear, I bleed it
Nigga, your crime will Crystal Mountain, just to try to go see it
My life is a movie script, John Singleton greet me
The blood flow like magma, harder then traps in Eden
Send shockwaves like circles from objects dropped in lakes
I spray phrases, til the brain can't operate
Discombobulate, the populate, Texas Chainsaw lock your grip
Cardinal, Wu symbol conglomerate
Team will rather fall than be spit in the face
Jesus asked God when I'm dropping my next tape
Nigga, Bronze colored disc, razor blade shape

End endurance, niggas is wack when spitting raps
Get back to whatever y'all was doing before that
It ain't working for you, no one's even heard of you
Tried to get ya grams up, wound up with your hands up
I'm a bona-fide hustler, slash M.C.
The first on the stroll, and the last to leave
I ain't rich, so the streets is my blueprint
And it just so happens, I can translate it in music
Roll with dutches as long as a pool stick
And make sure everybody down for this movement
Niggas is apple pies, soft as cool whip
And Detroit cats be the last niggas to full with

[Kevlaar 7]
Throw a rose down inside my grave, massage my dead brain
With oils of the soil, inside the dirt I bathe
Unclaimed as a slave, with the heart of Virginia
I'm signed for life, years, now it's pitch black, my nigga
Fearing the legend, the reverend, predicted the cold night
Black ski mask, yo, I'm the cross in the sights
I climb the hill of the ill with a concrete sword
And rode my hood, joe, as the hero of the world

[Illa Dayz]
Spit lessons for the old school niggas and adolescences
Fabric, fly material dressing, blessing my body
Addicts is lively, hot sessions, sweating in seconds
Tracks is robbery, draining me out from what's inside me
Masses of static, me and this mic is like a manic
Pours this methane, is either small dope or it's magic
Attacking my brain from spitting loud since I'm bona-fide
I lost a life, crystal my block, I've seen it soponified

[Vast Aire]
Pass me the dutch, I'll fill it up
I wrote this rhyme in the corner, like I was a dunce
If I, told ya twice, I told ya once
That's word to the Trina' man, that sold you fronts
You be number nine, I did not stutter
The sun is my dad, the moon is my mother
Look dude, there is no other
Like the Three Wisemen, that came from Persia
To bless Je-sus, peace to Baby Jesus
I'm becoming the Buddha, this is my thesis
I am the chosen; I've walked on water that wasn't frozen
And you can talk shit, but look at your lip, now it's busted
Sorta like burgundy, bubbling custard
I don't wanna discuss it...
I'm on another level, come on, man, look at my mustard
That's Grey Poupon, what planet you on?
You wanna take my oil, I'll show you my rocket
You wanna take my chain, I'll break ya eye socket
Kamikaze, you can't stop this
Divine wind, I'm climbing
To reach, higher states, to drowning
Sitting on the same corner, frowning
This is L.X.G., microphone clowning

[Outro: Killah Priest (Salute)]
Yeah, what up, Michael Vangelo
My nigga Vast Aire., Cannibal Ox, The Wisemen (We here)
(Killah Priest), Kings Row Music, (K7, the bull Phillie
Illa dayz, Bronze Naz, Salute the muthafucking Kid
I told y'all niggas, Wisemen, we here, Kings Row, nigga)