“the audible version of tissues forming organisms. Like particles splitting, im volatile be wary of me. The spawn of the sun and the earth reborn on hallowed ground messed around and opened up a goddamn portal spitting. They call me vesey cuz im greasing rappers on they turf. And plot revolts, they’ll quote me later say I hardly spoke. Cuz im a quiet assassin with passion for fire blaze the trails and leave the victims catching breath inside the smoke. This the revival of that fiver rap. Harlem city. Epitomy of street survival rap. Hard and gritty. Allah’s math with a swag they cant master cast from the plaster of the elohim. God is with me. I spark fear in they hearts with 50,000 watts of light beams from out the deepest chasms of the darkness. Each verse I leave my mark and they say they cant market it. But these is gemstones, bezel cut lain in gold copper.

Language so proper, I enunciate the doctrine, taking converts you wonder why my name is so popular. I came from a jungle made of concrete and conflict, liars and them tigers and them bears held us hostage. where I learned the difference tween authentic and imposters. Where I turned my sentences to loaded guns and cocked em. there I stayed alone beware of sinisters and monsters. Now I play in venues in the center of a mosh pit. Huh? Im the center of your conscience. The black dot, honey skin, the pinnacle of progress. The future of music look brighter than a solar flare. Im blacker than garvey, you whiter than a polar bear. Hold it there, you don’t wanna salsa with the holyfield, box the crowd and leave my mic like artifact- holy grail. Matter fact you can call me the prophet. Im probably drew ali incarnate so stop it.

This is a letter to them veterans and brolic ninjas who fought blood wars shots leave them bodies crippled. Im trying to catch em fore they end up as a homi victim. Guess you’d call me pastor saving cats with the phonic system. They wanna block me cuz im not like these regular broads. Speak revelations off the top like im channeling god. Am I my sisters keeper? Bell hooks and audre lorde. Ask bout me, I protect the goddess with katana swords. Im type ill like im typhoid no vaccine. You a hypochondriac. I live rap, you practicing. I break rules like white boys in courtrooms. Where that cracka George at? The bounty set, now make moves. Im sorta the rapper that half the game been waiting on. The other half is waiting to see who next they hating on. But it don’t matter cuz im bred tough in carbon form. Give you the plus lessons now you see how knowledge born”- Sa-Roc

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"Can I Rap?" ft. Derek Vautrinot & Benny Goodman L