You know what I mean

You could put a label on a life,

Put a label on a lifestyle



Sometimes...



You know

Put a label on how you wake up every morning

And go to bed at night



Hybrid



Ive been diggin into crates ever since I was livin in space

Before the ratrace, before monkeys had human traits

I mastered numerology and bigbang theology

Performed lobotomies with telekinetic psychology

Invented the mic so I could start blessin it

Chincheckin kids to make my point like an impressionist

Many men have tried to shake us

But I twist mic cords in double helixes and show them what Im made of

I buckle knees like leg braces

Cast the spell of instrumental-ness and all of you emcees who hate us

So you can try on,

Leave you without a shoulder to cry on

From now to infinity let icons be bygones

I fire bomb ghostly notes haunt this

I tried threats but moved on to a promise

I stomp shit with or without an accomplice

And run the gauntlet with whoever that wants this



High Voltage

The unforgettable sound

High Voltage

Bringing you up and taking you down

High Voltage

Coming at you from every side

High Voltage

Making the rhythm and rhyme collide



Akira, I put a kink in the backbones of clones with microphones

Never satisfy my rhyme jones

Sprayin bright day over what you might say

My Blood type's Krylon Technicolor type A

On highways ride with road rage

Cages of wind and cages of tin that bounce all around

Surround sound

Devouring the scene

Subliminal gangrene paintings

Over while the same thing

Sing song karaoke copy bullshit

Break bones verbally with sticks and stone tactics

Fourth dimension, combat convention