The Theology of Time

from by Poltergeist

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lyrics

I said...
Lord, forgive these niggas for fucking with me, they ain’t fucking with me
They know not what they do, this piff is fucking with me, come fuck with me
Style flip like gymnastic tricks, while you suck like a nasty chick
Thug Passion with a blunt of piff have me bout ready to wreck a bitch
I lean, bounce and rock and roll and politic like Robert Dole
With one arm I’m scoring more, couldn’t do it even if you sold your soul
I’mma buy it, come and try it, what up Flip, what a diet
Sucka free, you don’t like it, See through niggaz like a psychic
I’m a priest, call me witch doctor, smoke this, it’ll have you proper
I pop off like Redenbacher, don’t grow no dread, but I’m a rasta
What up Pastor? Parson Troy. I’m a Down South Georgia boy
I love big ass girls and big ass toys and big ass guns that make big ass noise
They call me Z, like Mr T. I pity the fool that fuck with me
Every I bar I spit is platinum rich, every verse I kick is a luxury
Ain’t no mystery, to you misery Poltergeist is making history
What you posed to be, is you kidding me, you food like rotisserie

Lord..... they ain’t ready for the Poltergeist
Pause
Hurry up, we’re waiting on you *(x2)
x2





















I siad
God---> let these niggaz see the light
Another dimension nigga that’s my word to Jesus Christ
I’m Bhramah, this Kharma, California, call it Riverside
I’m from Hinesville, Georgia but I just call it Niggacide
Oooh, this oooh got me thinking that I’m 40 Water
I’m Rick Rude, but you address me SGT Slaughter
Cobra Clutch, Rude Awakening, I’m the Iron Man
Nintendo brat, matter of fact, I’m going Mega Man
Woody Allen of this rap shit, eating good like a fat bitch
Everything around here classic, When you spit they be like that’s it
That’s the joint, that’s the jam, turn that shit up and play it again
Been around the world and I can’t find a jam that I don’t damn
I slam dance like busta move, might busta rhyme, might busta tool
I’m such a fool that’s dropping jewels, smoke honey dew in middle school
Blame Triple Six, I’m taking hits and smoking on that pizurp
I’m going retarded like I’m Steve Martin trying make it jizerk


Lord..... they ain’t ready for the Poltergeist
Pause
Hurry up, we’re waiting on you *(x2)
x2

credits

from The Black Death, released March 12, 2013
Written, performed, mixed and produced by E. Cooper-Anderson for Tetractys Productions LLC.

Mastered by Sage Audio Mastering

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