Purified Thoughts

[Intro]

"Am I a good man? ..."

[Verse 1: Ghostface Killah]

Take my hands out my pockets you can see my thumbs

Both of them turned green from counting the ones

Memorized by the glory, word life

Cut off niggas who killed good but couldn't do nothing for me

Shout 'em out every once in the blue

And kid yo, I never rocked with

Long as they keep away, we cool

I devised my own stimulus plan, I'm nigga-rich

I'm tired of eating those crumbs and black licorice

To free my mind on Friday, I cleanse in the mosque

Let the imam pray over my head and wash

Thoughts, sterilized, purified, Godly

Watch his gift manifest the green like barley

If that shit happen I'll feed his whole army

Talking 'bout the angels and peeps in Somali

Try to stay humble and swallow my pride

In God I trust, not talkin' 'bout the ones on your five

Crisp dollar billing, catch me in a little hut in Benin

Village style, feeding the children

Big pots of jasmine tea with Mandela

Africans chanting me on like Coachella

Ghostface Bumaye, Kumbaya my Lord

My death day, 24 karat tomb I lay

Wishing they could bury me next to the prophets

Nabi, Lut, Is'a, Musa, Hadrat Muhammad, Ibrahim

[Interlude]

"Am I a good man?" (I don't know)

"Am I a fool?" (We'll see)

[Verse 2: Killah Priest]

The Lord takes me, gathering speeds before winds

High currents, distance, places be forming wings

Kings offering, thrones was there

Man with the seven crowns on his dome was near

Feet walked over rose petals sold from the ghetto

Face froze in gold like the pharaoh

Adorned in glory, robe of light, a power for his cherub

As He passed the path, white doves crossed the eyes of thugs

Eternal heartbeat and the dark fire in his blood

Seven hundred books were opened

Embraced to write, then threw the crooks in the ocean

Skin brass hair like it grew from goatskin

The chosen has spoken, tablets were broken

The smoke hand grabs an omen

Gravity grabbing me gradually, dragging me through Hell's cavity

This is blasphemy, I fell where the jackals feed

God felt bad for me but cast me in the Caspian Sea

Satan gave the dragon his key, Wu-Family's the faculty

K.P., K.P

[Interlude]

"Am I a good man? Am I a fool?

"Am I?"

[Verse 3: GZA]

He used to sling in the stairwell

Fast to put the rap on a thinking cap, ignite your hair gel

No such thing as the fair sale

He'll put the bullet out same day, delivery airmail

And on this level a thug will sell your garbage

No refund, the only exchange from the cartridge

But the users kept coming back with their life earnings

Ready to make a deal, soul and pipe burning

The outcome tragic, the household dramatic

Living rooms for heating spoons, basements for addicts

Support from a bean, hit the courts from a fiend

Who betrayed one, who had lit the torch for his team

So he sent them gifts, body parts per diem

In a box that held prints but too dark to see 'em