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
