Anti-Gravity

[Verse 1: Vultcha] Every day, we walk The same street, the same corner that smells of St. Ides Simply staying alive, we see the world through the same eyes The daily question’s what we got, have or have-not If you ain’t out to get mines, then I’m out to get ours. Use no Excuse to be sour. Black people used to be power, quick with a fist Now who cowers? See po-po every hour. They know the spot Like, “Who doesn’t?” Over my block, steady buzzing, and I know that They know who runs it but they ain’t there when the guns lift. Well, let me Pack a steel weapon in leather coat when I’m stepping, and I get Frisked down, patted, slapped with fake charges and questioned We’re here to live, we forget it, so all my kid beef got deaded. I got no time For who said it, drive-by with TECs and jetted. Never been caught Or arrested, so God-blessed plus repented. When evil thoughts Was invented, return to sender with vengeance. In every Ghetto and jungle, they keep the wisdom that humbles, so Shaitan May make me stumble, my foundation can’t crumble [Hook: Vultcha] We ain’t Racist but we anti-gravity ‘Cause these streets can’t hold me down, I’m carefree, and if You ain’t trying to win, then it must be me, and there’s No place I’d rather be [Verse 2: Kev Roc] Yeah, no limit edition Life under condition, let it escape by morning shots, rhymes Have risen our right to blossom, charge the harvest I plot, accounts Be dysentery, none of them ill ideologies sterile, don’t give A care of how you bust it down or how you made your bail Kemetic in origin, thus highly advanced my psyche Every direction, record label rap/wrap more flavors than Nike [?] so many Different dues in this, I got a refund coming in [Verse 3: Rodan] Flashing Godbody members resembling powers by birthright Meticulous flows maintaining and kept the verse tight, representing 2,000 bare-knuckle flavors—taste mine Animating air molecules through sounds like a bassline Record labels waste time. Eye industrial, rocking Casbah, spitting Plasma, verbally giving microphones asthma Lyrical jabbing ya, pugilistical rhyme cannibal swinging A one-two piece, cracking both of your mandibles [Hook: Vultcha] We ain’t Racist but we anti-gravity ‘Cause these streets can’t hold me down, I’m carefree, and if You ain’t trying to win, then it must be me, and there’s No place I’d rather be [Verse 4: Vultcha] First, they be Making excuses, holding the knot to our nooses. Numb from our Gins and our juices, proud to be wild like a deuce is, though inside We be crying, weakness screw-facing and eyeing, staring at fear At least trying, stereotypes multiplying, creating Surround-sound, sheep-cloning unleashed on every downtown Uppercuts in the budget keep us KO’d and knocked down But still alive like our hopes and never drop like the soap ‘cause every Champ had to struggle to get up off of these ropes [Verse 5: MF DOOM] Give me a challenge, combo left-right, balance Keep him on his toes with flows, erupt violent Volcano hot-molten, twenty-four karat golden With different techniques passed down from the Olden days and times. Take a hit, they not Fazing mines. He came with these most amazing rhymes Look like he got hit by a razorback. See, this is no Player’s trade like playing freeze-tag stuck with a razorblade [Hook: Vultcha] We ain’t Racist but we anti-gravity ‘Cause these streets can’t hold me down, I’m carefree, and if You ain’t trying to win, then it must be me, and there’s No place I’d rather be