Gorgon Madonna

Okay, alright
I’ve been staring at these pages, mindstate purple
Mercury’s in retrograde, circles in a circle
What’s the purpose?
Slangin' these rhymes like a merchant
Hand-written in cursive
Lately, I’ve been staring at these pages, mindstate purple
Mercury’s in retrograde, circles in a circle
What’s the purpose?
(Yeah)
360, spiral the neck like a vulture goddess
Milky way patterns in the energies I harness
And my mindset, I’m high as the sky gets, multiple sunsets
Capturing thoughts with a butterfly net
'Cause true reality runs deeper than the concept
To the spectrum of your consciousness
Your pigment’s only context
This race can only be won if the psyche is steady
Even Frankenstein began as a dream, in the mind of Mary Shelley
So throw caution to the wind, focusing the mental element
Make bars crumble down like dilapidated settlements
Although threatened with hell, I’ll blast for the self, first
Splatter the optics, and damage the nerves
Thirst for blood over everything, I swing sabers like Anakin
Ambidextrous androgen, I’m both the empress and the king
Walk unseen in these verbal coliseums
Kevin Bacon with quicksilver in his skeleton
Matutinal and Vespertine, testosterone and estrogen
I’m all things encoding, while subliminally messaging
At times, it seems that I’m chained to all the trouble that I struggle with
My shadows huddle in the midst
'Cause the blueprint of life has hidden meanings
And deep within them, applied contradictions
Angels inter-breed with demons
See, misery loves company, it overwhelms and feeds me
Fills me as I embrace the dark and light completely
Guided by the ring of the seven sisters when the pitch darkens
Artemis gravitates my aim to where the fixed mark is
Hit the target, commander of the dart board
When wounded, I’m the essence of our Lilith, in her darkest form
Day and night worshipper, stubborn as a mule
Built my temple from her dreams and posted sentries at the vestibules
Our army of degenerate practitioners will street-sweep, petition-free,
our walls will carry signatures
Melancholic insignia — the dog’s name’s Cerberus
Past, present, and future, stay similar
Observing distant memories, fading over ages
It’s in the pain of remembrance, leave the structure ever-changing
Saw shape-shifting inspire the nihilist
Decipher mind script, hypotheses tested on self a mad scientists
Spit fire and water, I’m lion and hydra
Aloof in the distance, like the constellation of Lyra
A mystery of time, laid an egg and hatched a man
A light-god, with a staff of thunderbolts in his hand
Illuminated the vision beyond peripheral
I’m black Gorgon Medusa, feeding off your viscerals
A throwback, in the age of clones and phone taps
Metallic drones and all that, command an army of skeleton bone stacks
I measure motions sub-atomically
My thought-forms are crystallized snow, color of ebony
Shimmering
Staring at these pages, mindstate purple
Mercury’s in retrograde, circles in a circle
What’s the purpose?
Slangin' these rhymes like a merchant
Hand-written in cursive
Lately, I’ve been staring at these pages, mindstate purple
Mercury’s in retrograde, circles in a circle
What’s the purpose?
(In basements)
(DJs and emcees)
(Cultivate the- the- the- patience)
(Yugen- Blakrok)
(With the witches brewing)
(In basements)
(With the witches brewing)
(DJs and emcees)
(Cultivate patience)
Bang your head
Bang, bang your head
(With some witches brewing)
(DJs and emcees)
(Cultivate patience)
(, I now present to you)
(hex you)