Mind Body And Soul

Yeah, you know my crew is thick
Makin chicks go buckwild and act a lunatic
I’m not a fugitive, hit me on my voodoo bip
On the Hiero bus, smokin out the hookah wit
hydro bazooka shit, blowin out your mucus membrane
Yeah, you can spit game, but who can explain
how your woman in Spain with Miguel?
Well his real life don’t match the stories he tell
Pedallin propaganda, wearer of the handcuffs
In a plastic cell, look straight for the camera
From Atlanta to Havana, they broadcastin Channel Zero
I’m in your ear though, sort of like a black antenna
I throw my hand up, body electric
Receive God’s blessings how I stay protected
This is protected! →Professor X Nowadays young boys have to handle the fifth
like John Hannibal Smith, put the ammo in the clip
Catch you in a alleyway, blam you in the rear
Run up in your crib, go gorilla on your family
And it ain’t about a rap song, they do it for the cash homes.
. what comes around goes around
You might catch one if you own this town
And that’s well known so hold it down
When you try to blame hip-hop, for who gets shot
I point my finger at the President, it’s his fault
No amount of Harvard slick talk can pick apart that one
Delinquents on the ave know what’s happenin (uh)
I throw my hand up, body electric
Receive God’s blessings how I stay protected, protected, protected
This is protected! →Professor X Resistin as a seminal for centuries and evermore
Spit it in a metaphor, get it at your record store
Let’s make it crystal clear, listen here
Blood spilled on the battlefield or shed in a tear
Recharge, reshape, then reappear
Then reformulate before we commandeer
It’s the renaissance, from Port-au-Prince, to in the Bronx
And back to Oakland, the wheels in motion
We coastin — thunderfoot like a Clydesdale
Rumble, young man rumble, I’ll put your lights out
Opio be groovin like Manchito and the Afro Cubans
And that’s cool then, T. Mass power movin
I throw my hand up, body electric
Receive God’s blessings how I stay protected, protected, protected
This is protected! →Professor X I expand like the verbal supercluster, so who could muster
the force of impact, from my point of attack
Live third rail on the subway track
I’m in the tunnel like the Moleman, with mo’plans, to go back
to flows that expose Acknickulous skill
Not mass appeal, or abs of steel
Or apple bottom like the ass on Beverly Peel
I appreciate celebrity status it’s all real
But it’s mo’about the cats in the lab and with no deal
Who keep the fully-auto verses single-action ideal
Yeah Hiero oh they straight, culture merchants we kill
So throw your hands in the air, let the truth be revealed
Yeah, body electric, protected, protected
This is protected! →Professor X