Sonz Of Man Court
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Yeah, scientific Shabazz, the Holy Psychiatrist
Coming down with that spiritual rain
Six thousand years of darkness, four hundred years of pain
As I drag the wicked into the Sunz of Man court
He shall be tried for his ways and actions
Death shall be his penalty
As I embellish, mentally I nourish
Resuscitate a mind state that has perished
We shall inherit his mother and choir back to Earth
We rise out of spiritual darkness
The six thousand year curse, the lost disciples
Bound to the midst of the bottomless pit
Trapped behind the gates of this wicked wilderness
I hear the sounds of the trumpets
Blowing across the heavens
It's calm, prepare for the storm of the Seventh
Shabazz the Disciple, the holy exalter
Condemning those who sacrificing babies on the altar
I hear the cries of innocent black babies who were aborted
And unmercifully slaughtered
Loud screams echoes, skulls of angry slaves
Turning over in their graves
The white sheets are like white flags, you need to wave it
To the soldier of the Lord, the warrior King David
I come to kill and crucify those who trick and lie
In the eyes of the Most High
The pale face devil race, Caucasoid germ
Grafted from original black man's sperm
Thin-blooded, weak, grafted brain punk
Your power's a third of mine, you drunk, funky skunk
How dare you use Jesus' name to shield your filthy religion?
My tongue be the sword to slash you with precision
The justice system is here, the court'll only acquit 'em
And eighty-five percent of y'all are going to Hell with 'em
The walls of Hell are closing in
Disciples, we rose again, the Sunz of Man chosen men
Like lightning striking from the East
The Holy Psychiatrist, Fourth Disciple, and Killah Priest
Unlimited bolts of energy
Striking the enemy in the righteous vicinity
Death be the penalty
Uh, uh, so come on, so come on
Swing a no sweet chariot
Pick up the righteous load and yo, they carry it
To a new home and identity
For my peeps are, death'll be the penalty
Uh, now for my folks that got mad or love
Keep your eyes on the prize and you rise above
Ayo Shabazz, make sure you sing it loud enough
Peaceing out to the righteous, staying rugged and rough
And yo, they get on down, come on
Now get on down, swing a no sweet chariot, check it
Lahara misa oja
The mighty men of war draw near
Sharpen your sword, we must be aware
Of trick knowledge they use to deceive us
You've been plagued with the mental diseases
You worship false portraits of Jesus
The grafted image you worship, it seizes
I hear the snap of my great-great grandfather's neck in a noose
Hanging from a fucking tree, whipped and mentally abused
Visions of great-great cousins running across the field
Unarmed, ran down and killed
I be the star to dispel the darkness
Cast upon your soul by inhabitants of Hell's carcass
Worship the dead, and not the true religion
Killed Jesus, it's sad that he died for their religion