Feel the music son, we got you programmed like a beatnWhen I press snare, yo, guard your grillnPress kick, you move your feet, you can't competenI got my hydrants parked on every streetnnI'm federal nigga, son of sun, come close and feel the heatnI am the streets, the white lines only separate me from menYou hydroplane in false gods name and still crash into menSign and tree, mountainside, guardrail into the seannThey thought they stole you from my arms then carried you to menHere's the key, DNA encoded in a beatnWhite rocks in a vial, nigga, ain't got nuthin' on menBitch I'm free, ask these editors at MTVnnFar as they know they're publishing some new school poetrynLet it be 'cause even that will do to turn the keynDoorways into other worlds, the truth shall set you freenYou are me, I am you, but also I'm hennShepherd of a bastard flock that grazes in the streetsnFeel the beat nod your head lean back, yo, touch your feetnLet me see you pop that thang right there girl in your seatnFeel the heat, count this page amongst your whitest sheetsnComfort in my every word slide under countless sheepnnHail Mary, Mother of GodnGot the whole host of angels shuffling in my iPodnNiggas learned to raise their voices when I lowered my rodnStaff of Moses, Pharaoh knows it, son, my word is my bondnnTune my heart with mind, speak my nature, divinenCallin' shit into existence back in '79nWith the future in my pocket tightly gripped like a 9nKeep my finger on the trigger waiting for the right timennAncient niggas align, path of cosmic designnBlood of kings 'cause Saturn's rings don't need no diamonds to shinenYes, the reason for the season, ornamented divinenCoded Language of the mystics with my fist in the skynnKeep your head up, we represent the real, my nigga dead upnBook of the dead, history bled, this nigga fed upnLed us to despair, some into prayer and they won't let upnUntil they got us worshiping them false gods instead of the realnessnGod of the streets, my niggas feel thisnnWe nod our heads and worship through beatsnGo ahead and kneelnIt?s the love that makes the cipher completenAnd it?d displayed through the way the bass line marries the beatnnHail Mary, Mother of GodnGot the whole host of angels shuffling in my iPodnNiggas learned to raise their voices when I lowered my rodnStaff of Moses, Pharaoh knows it, son, my word is my bondnnTune my heart with mind, speak my nature, divinenCallin' shit into existence back in '79nWith the future in my pocket tightly gripped like a 9nKeep my finger on the trigger waiting for the right timennAncient niggas align, path of cosmic designnBlood of kings 'cause Saturn's rings don't need no diamonds to shinenYes, the reason for the season, ornamented divinenCoded language of the mystics with my fist in the skynnKeep your head up