So this has been.my favorite song of OTEP's since it came out in 2004, and I always thought it was a song about a child's narrative of suffering in an abusive Christian home. But now that I am revisiting the lyrics, I am seeing something totally new.
This song could be gospel of John but from the perspective of Jesus.
Jesus was NOT having a good time up to and during the crucifixion. Everyone in the known world at the time looked to him with fear, admiration or disgust and he was constantly being asked questions. He spoke in "verses, prophesies and curses". He had made an enemy of the state, and believed the world was increasingly wicked and fallen from grace, or that he was in the "mouth of madness".
The spine of atlas is the structure that allows the titan to hold the world up. Jesus challenged the state and in doing so became a celebrated resistance figure. It also made him public enemy #1.
All of this happened simply because he was doing his thing, not because of any agenda he had or strategy.
And then he gets scourged (storm of thorns)
There are some plot holes here but I think it's an interesting interpretation.
Yo, Gambino niggas who swipe theirs
Deluxe rap cavaliers
Midgets who steal beers, give 'em theirs
Sit back jollyin'
My team be gamin' like three card Rolly an'
Drug Somalians pollyin'
Many raps they crochetin'
Hey yo Iron, these niggas portrayin'
But haven't been payin'
For real, slide on these niggas like flesh fear
Caesar fade style, usually tough grenade
Throw a blade, fuck gettin' laid
Guzzle this shit like Gatorade
Big dick Wallies have never half-suede
Connectin' with the hot style is done
Light up a chalice
I run with nothin' but the wildest, foulest
Come on now, long dick style
Niggas on the hit out, ay yo Iron bite my shit out
Eventually, bust a rap gun mentally
Been doin' this century kid, just meant to be
Get on your knees and bless me with a gem in the Caribbean
Skiin' off by P.M.
Snatch Canadian cream with Scandinavians
Fellatium style, play it like thirty two Arabians
The greatest lesson is don't owe, you might get stole on
When I go bury me wit Valow on
'Sho 'nuff, hit the bank and thrust
Cool Nauticas Jamie Summer got trained on the tour bus
We upgrade, swallow raw eggs, read the label
Hittin' white-label, left the Winnebago unstable
Smooth sailin', walked in, my earth started kneelin'
Started stealin', I'm too ill, see we're bellin' at the parlay
Kicked up, mack, max motion
Michael Bolton magazine call, I'm too potent
Louisville mix pain kill rap, fuck benadryl
The violin in 'Knowledge God' sounded ill
Tremendously obnoxious, no blotches
My telephone watch'll leave bartenders topless
Dead on the prosecutor, smacked a juror
Me and my girl'll run like Luke and Laura
We sit back on Malayan islands
Sippin' mix drinks out of boat coconut bowls, we whylin'
Sit back jollyin', uh huh, uh huh
Uh huh, uh huh, Sit back jollyin'
Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh, uh huh
Sit back jollyin'
My team be gamin' like three card Rolly an'
Drug Somalians pollyin'
Sit back jollyin'
My team be gamin' like three card Rolly an'
Drug Somalians pollyin'
Sit back
Deep meditation sound orientated, war the blizzard
Rap para-medical the wizard
Cappadonna, never caterin' to none
My microphone and three verse weigh a ton of slaughter
You oughta five thousand back across the water
My laboratory story keep me flowin' with the glory
Acapella or deep dirty instrumental
I could blow the sky like the stormy wind blew
One gallon of whylin', Park Hill profilin'
I cut your face up rough fifty sure while you're smilin'
For violatin' my position
I leave you smoked like a crackhead on a mission
Two tokes of mic dope, one stroke of elegance
Rated like the movie graphic told intelligence
Person to person, it'd be hard for you to take a trophy
You better off to get somebody out to try to smoke me
'Cause I'm P-L-O T-K-O every day
Dancehall General, Party Fanatic Colonel
Cappadonna son'a old school just go infernal
Veteran for rappin' with the new set of rule of hard rappin'
Ninety-six jive, I keep the live crowd clappin'
When I bow, all praises due to Staten Isle
I spark the mic and Shaolin spark the meth tical
Every evenin', I have a by myself meetin'
Thinkin' who's gonna be the next to catch a beatin'
From my mental slangin', bitchin' rap twist the point of warfare
I brutalize, all competition catch ill hair
Chance him, that's what they said, threw up a ransom
I jacked it, stripped the beat naked and packed it
Gimme my rewards
Deluxe rap cavaliers
Midgets who steal beers, give 'em theirs
Sit back jollyin'
My team be gamin' like three card Rolly an'
Drug Somalians pollyin'
Many raps they crochetin'
Hey yo Iron, these niggas portrayin'
But haven't been payin'
For real, slide on these niggas like flesh fear
Caesar fade style, usually tough grenade
Throw a blade, fuck gettin' laid
Guzzle this shit like Gatorade
Big dick Wallies have never half-suede
Connectin' with the hot style is done
Light up a chalice
I run with nothin' but the wildest, foulest
Come on now, long dick style
Niggas on the hit out, ay yo Iron bite my shit out
Eventually, bust a rap gun mentally
Been doin' this century kid, just meant to be
Get on your knees and bless me with a gem in the Caribbean
Skiin' off by P.M.
Snatch Canadian cream with Scandinavians
Fellatium style, play it like thirty two Arabians
The greatest lesson is don't owe, you might get stole on
When I go bury me wit Valow on
'Sho 'nuff, hit the bank and thrust
Cool Nauticas Jamie Summer got trained on the tour bus
We upgrade, swallow raw eggs, read the label
Hittin' white-label, left the Winnebago unstable
Smooth sailin', walked in, my earth started kneelin'
Started stealin', I'm too ill, see we're bellin' at the parlay
Kicked up, mack, max motion
Michael Bolton magazine call, I'm too potent
Louisville mix pain kill rap, fuck benadryl
The violin in 'Knowledge God' sounded ill
Tremendously obnoxious, no blotches
My telephone watch'll leave bartenders topless
Dead on the prosecutor, smacked a juror
Me and my girl'll run like Luke and Laura
We sit back on Malayan islands
Sippin' mix drinks out of boat coconut bowls, we whylin'
Sit back jollyin', uh huh, uh huh
Uh huh, uh huh, Sit back jollyin'
Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh, uh huh
Sit back jollyin'
My team be gamin' like three card Rolly an'
Drug Somalians pollyin'
Sit back jollyin'
My team be gamin' like three card Rolly an'
Drug Somalians pollyin'
Sit back
Deep meditation sound orientated, war the blizzard
Rap para-medical the wizard
Cappadonna, never caterin' to none
My microphone and three verse weigh a ton of slaughter
You oughta five thousand back across the water
My laboratory story keep me flowin' with the glory
Acapella or deep dirty instrumental
I could blow the sky like the stormy wind blew
One gallon of whylin', Park Hill profilin'
I cut your face up rough fifty sure while you're smilin'
For violatin' my position
I leave you smoked like a crackhead on a mission
Two tokes of mic dope, one stroke of elegance
Rated like the movie graphic told intelligence
Person to person, it'd be hard for you to take a trophy
You better off to get somebody out to try to smoke me
'Cause I'm P-L-O T-K-O every day
Dancehall General, Party Fanatic Colonel
Cappadonna son'a old school just go infernal
Veteran for rappin' with the new set of rule of hard rappin'
Ninety-six jive, I keep the live crowd clappin'
When I bow, all praises due to Staten Isle
I spark the mic and Shaolin spark the meth tical
Every evenin', I have a by myself meetin'
Thinkin' who's gonna be the next to catch a beatin'
From my mental slangin', bitchin' rap twist the point of warfare
I brutalize, all competition catch ill hair
Chance him, that's what they said, threw up a ransom
I jacked it, stripped the beat naked and packed it
Gimme my rewards
Lyrics submitted by spliphstar
Iron Maiden Lyrics as written by Corey Woods Carl Smith
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Spirit Music Group
Lyrics powered by LyricFind
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It Sucks.