The Prophecy

So you the motherfucker they call Immortal Technique?
What the fuck make you so special nigga?

I calculate planet alignment like Mayan astronomy
Discovering atrocities worse than Aristotle subjecting children to sodomy
Your theory of the galaxy is primitive like Ptolemy
The truth about the universe dug up like Aztec pottery
Unpredictable results like experimental Psychology
I'll stomp the streets with MCs beneath my feet in colonies
But presentation of spirit revolve around autonomy
Searching for monogamy
And cutting fake bitches out of my mind like a lobotomy
So obviously I'm not gonna be here to play games
Walk the top of the world and leave the Arctic Circle in flames
Battle the beast and false prophet dipected in the King James
I give a fuck about your MC name, I don't admire you
Only by dental records will you be identifiable
Cause the future is not reliable
Remember when rap was not economically viable?
Comparable to what motherfuckers think of me
I might be nobody but wait til I'm together like a symphony
Resounding sound that will continue infinitely
Angel of death punishing all those who live in infamy
I shine so far away from you, you never get a glimpse of me
And attempts to extinguish me don't bother me none
Like retarded kids throwing ice cubes at the sun
A victory against Immortal Technique will never be done
Just degrees of losing and every second you're adding one
Some niggas dream of pushing kilos
But I drop tons of more facts, formulas and philosophical logic
Than a basement full of scientists puffing on chronic
Dipped in micrium potassium cyanide and liquid bubonic
And use it as a sonic wand to find a spot of the demonic
Screaming like onyxs of absolutely no consequence
The poison is dense enough to clog up your arteries
Mercy is not a part of me
I cause you bodily injury permanently
Because simply verbaly murdering me is inconceivable
Cause of the unbelievable evil injected inside the blood stream of my people
And redemption is not located under a church steeple
The feeble and the meek like the Technique will inherit the Earth
But the Earth will be weak
Mother Earth and her decrepit terminal illness physique
The year 3000 is bleak
No happily ever after only death following the fourth Reich disaster
A legacy of bastards with plastic explosives
Your future's been eroded
Cause you forgot that when you're free
It's multiplied indefinitely by the struggle that be
The struggle I see
To socialistically unite the third-world countries
Expose hypocrisy in America's democracy
Sloppily obsessed with stopping me cause I speak prophecy
Trample and dismantle your capitalist philosophy
The same way I stomped to conquering rap monopoly
And I'm not a fuckin' prophet
But that's the fuckin' prophecy