T Minus Ten - Theory Hazit

This ain’t another song about wack rappers

I have the industry

The end is near, there’s no time to act passive

Cats laugh but deep down inside they wanna half-wrap it

There ain’t no half-stepping so we gon' have weapons

Fastest MP blast first and then ask questions

God is coming back, too dangerous to play with sin

They dropping like flies,

The countdown is on, down for the count

Drowning it out by the sound of your mouth

It is sounds of the South, transit Midwest

Intertwined with the vile rhymes to get incest

The only One we need to impress is Most High

And for those who can’t see death it’s close by

It snuck up on some cats, they kept an open eye

Caught them sleeping without them being notified

Countdown to the champion sound

Body all laid up in the pine box

What you gonna do when your time’s up?

My hip-hop so fly, NASA wanna sign me

Moving at God speed, Superman can’t rewind me

I been resurrected, ain’t nothing live as this

Sounded like perception when I shoot at some blind kids

I spit, mix it with dirt, and paint your eyelids

Holy Ghost leaving your cosmos silent

Who lined up your like some nine twelve hundreds

Messing up your high cause you tried to rhyme blunted

Ain’t no hiding from it, our style rocking up the charts

As I rock it in the dark, beams of lightning from my heart

See the light when I spark, matches do to curbs

Cause I’m down with the Master of the universe

I have the power to turn your biggest fear to a coward

The Lord rains like a meteor shower, the beat is devoured

Hell is hotter than Tahiti and Maui

Plus you waiting on your hour

You know wassup!

Countdown to the champion sound

Body all laid up in the pine box

What you gonna do when your time’s up?