So you're the motherfucker they call....Immortal Technique.  What the fuck make you so special nigga?  Huh... what the fuck do you do?    I calculate planet alignment like Mayan astronomy  Discovering atrocities worst than Aristotle  Subjecting children to sodomy  Your theory of the galaxy is primitive like Ptolemy  The truth about the universe stuck up like Aztec pottery  Unpredictable results like experimental psychology  I stomp the streets with emcee's beneath my feet in colonies  But presentation and 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  Walked the top of the world and leave the arctic circle in flames  Battle the beast and false prophet predicted in the King James  I give a fuck about your emcee 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 till I'm together like a symphony  Resounding sound that will continue infinitely  Angel of death punishing all those who live in infamy  And shine so far away from you  You'll never get a glimpse of me  Attempts to extinguish me don't even 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 it every second your adding one  Some niggas dream of pushing kilos but I drop tons  With more facts and formulas and philosophical logic  Then a basement full of scientists puffing on chronic  Dipped in mycin potassium cyanide and liquid bubonic  And use it as a sonic one to find the spawn of the demonic  Screaming like onyx is 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 be simply verbally 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 in soul just like the technique  Will inherit the earth, But the earth will be weak  Mother earth in her decrepit terminal illness physique  The year three thousand is bleak no happily ever after  Just death following the forth right disaster, a legacy of bastards  With plastic explosives your futures been eroded  Cause you forgot that when your free it's multiplied indefinitely  By the struggle that be the struggle I see  To socialistically united the third world countries  Expose hypocrisy in Americas democracy  Sloppily obsessed with stopping me cause I speak prophecy  Trample and dismantle your capitalist philosophy  The same way I stomp the conquering rap monopoly  And I'm not a fucking prophet  But that's the fucking prophecy