Haarlem

[Part 1] [Intro: billy woods] Swimmin' in palm oil out here [Verse 1: billy woods] King of all blacks, I eat human hearts I let things fall apart, motorcars rustin' in the garage Granadillas wild in the yard, vines climbin' burglar bars The roof fell in, on God, it's full of stars I swam in the dark, sun fled, the moon large Fire leap from Perry's Black Ark Slash and burn, the past is never far Reaching with chopped arms, lopped hands, no spare parts The band played "Those Were the Days," I watched 'em hang I ate red red in the stadium stands From crumbling balustrades, I watched 'em dance Like drill rappers [Interlude] You have your price It's rather high How high? Gallows high [Verse 2: billy woods] They grew fat in famine Our mortarless fortresses lie abandoned Alien monoliths still standin', pantin' Super Ape, put a candle in a skull for a lantern Light a dutch in Haarlem, Amsterdam, steps of a mansion Speaking Afrikaans, British accent, I want mine from back when Thebe said the wind get the ashes in the end, bruv The guerrillas severed every inoculated limb, left 'em with stubs Ziggurats on the Nile, bought the house and tore it down All your yesterdays in one neat pile [Outro] The will of the state is supreme Destiny has entrusted in our hands the will of the state The will of the state is supreme Destiny has entrusted in our hands the will of the state The will of the state is supreme Destiny has entrusted in our hands the will of the state [Part 2] [Verse 1: billy woods] No pictures, no touchin' the strippers Don't come around with no glass slippers Gas lamps, gas masks, rain slickers, glass lens The unslaved nigga, Moorish bandits Moorish science entanglement tangents Get you a pistol if you want your prayers answered Holding court, the whole breast heavy as gourds, milk rancid Standin' downwind of the homeless encampment Find my way home, white man left a lamp lit [Verse 2: Fatboi Sharif] The pistol burnin' on this mystical journey Sold parallel paradise, postcarded vision souvenir Missile launchin' redemption Church faculty sniper bullets close to the king and moshpit Bleeding marksmen Bloody footprints, ran from crime scene, crooks involved The carousel ring backwards, exorcism Possession of the cookie jar [Outro] I have reason to believe that a press photographer might find his way into your retreat, in spite of all our precautions for your privacy A foreign journalist, one of the best. I have seen some of his work. The work of a genius I don't like being photographed! It would be a most unwarrantable intrusion