Exhibit A (Remix)

[Intro] And his own story was as curious as his narrative The tale of his life is the tale of a writer of incredible vision An astute analyst and pundit A lyricist compassionate and callus A reckless hedonist and disaffected malcontent [Verse 1: Jay Electronica] I spit that Wonderama shit Me and my conglomerates shall remain anonymous Caught up in the finest shit Get that type of media coverage Obama get Spit that Kurt Vonnegut That blow your brain Kurt Cobain, that Nirvana shit Who gon' bring the game back Who gon' spit that Ramo on the train tracks That gold rope, that five-finger ring rap Running with my same pack You can find the Christ where the lepers and the lames at Life is like a dice game One roll could land you in jail or cutting cake Blowing kisses in the rice rain Nice whip, nice chain, a closet of skulls The stench is like slave blood at Providence Hall, yeah They built my city on top of a grave Nigga die, nigga get high and watch the parade Back in the early '90s Where they at, where they at Get the gat, get the gat was a popular phrase Bally Animals and Rugbys was a popular craze This the vivid memoirs of a obnoxious slave I pave ways like Nat and Harriet I blast on Judas Iscariot and peel off in the chariot I'm sitting pretty, spitting flames, gripping grains Ain't a damn thing changed [Interlude: Willy Wonka and Child] How does he do it? My young lad, do you ask a dolphin how it swims? No Or a eagle how it flies? No That's right, you don't, because that's what they were made to do You are about to bear witness my friends To one of the greatest technological advances in modern history BEHOLD! a confectionery behemoth [Verse 2: Jay Electronica] They say Candyman, Candyman, spit me a dream Blow a chunk of the levee out and spit me a stream Knock a man's house down and build a casin- A two thousand dollar government check from FEM- I swam down shit's creek and came up clean With a new lease on life like Andy Dufresne It's the most poetical, Nat King unforgettable Clarence 13X Allah's rhapsody from Bellevue I'm splitting atoms, spitting flames Bringing change, things will never be the same I got the rap game singing At Last like Etta James Lames get they plane shot down like John McCain It's a dream, it's a dream The flow is elegant like Miss Coretta Scott King A lot of kings seen death and turn queen Crack they twenty-four inch rims in the ravine Respect the architect, never test the Elohim Goodnight, this is Jay Elec, live from New Orleans [Original outro: Napoleon Hill] My journey has brought me to an understanding of the divine forces which we have all been bestowed It was in this search that I came upon a revelation Which has called me to guide millions of people towards their righteous destiny [Verse 3: Mos Def] Bey! I spit that, orchesteral Medina born exceptional Extra Extra Terrestial From out the ghetto vestibule Put your yard up on knowledge like the lessons do So fly fiends can get high off the residue So real, and surreal, a pure deal Dante Flaco, flow handsome, guapo The Sun, Moon, and Stars, Grits and The Gospel School of Knock Harder and the teachin of Apostles Pistols, prayer meetings, player balls, car shows Festivals, funerals, the grotesque and beautiful Phenomenons normal, the needed hardly happens Fresh V's at high speeds zoomin backwards Fast forward to last moments to flash over Trick trappin they clique clack then blast on 'em Damn homie it was all good a week ago Show 'em the truth but can't make 'em believe it yo... It's Curtains, the opening scene Simpatico, remarkable, the article dream Wake Up and bear witness to what you never seen Reach out and feel what they said would never be... Me... and J-A-Y-E, electronic motherboard Shut em off they sucker songs Fuck em all and the horse they rode in on You can't trespass the star gate I go in on Get off [Verse 4: Jay Electronica] I bust through the gates of hell like a batterin ram Clappin yelling profanities like Yosemite Sam After that, I'm back home scannin the land Twenty-three million square miles of contraband I know ya feel me, but still hope the opposition kill me Cause you don't wanna see god manifest really UFOs and cabbage water, Willie the Kid You ain't seen one of these in a trillion years Abracadabra, I popped out the meat grinder shining The elegant art form of rhymings just blinding And that's just a regular hat trick A trick lock, a ninety gallon tank, yeah I'm back on that shit The ark building mad man from Hôtel-Dieu Act II, coming through a dream by you Young Slumdog from uptown, pocket full of rupees Torn up sheets of looseleaf and one Lucy