Shiny Suit Theory

I'm sailing on a cloud they trailing below

My shrink told me it's a feeling they don't ever know

I pack up all my sins and I wear them to the show

And let 'em go, let 'em go, let 'em go, let 'em go

I'm sailing on a cloud they trailing below

My shrink told me it's a feeling they don't ever know

I pack up all my sins in every L that I blow

And let 'em go, let 'em go, let 'em go, let 'em go

In the land before time

A land before altar boys, synagogues and shrines

Man was in his prime

Look how far I go in time just to start a rhyme

The method is sublime you get blessed with every line

I'm in touch with every shrine from Japan to Oaxaca

The melanated carbon-dated phantom of the chakras

Me and Puff, we was chilling in Miami

He said: "Nigga fuck the underground you need to win a Grammy

For your mama and your family

They need to see you shined up

You built a mighty high ladder, let me see you climb up

Nigga what you scared of?

Terrorize these artificial rap niggas and spread love

Pollenate they ear buds

Like you supposed to, spit it for the culture

Pay no attention to the critics and the vultures

They rather have a shot of Belvy just to spite you

They casting judgments cause they feel they got the right to

Fuck them! I let the dice roll like the father did

I gotta shine it's in my blood I'm a Harlem kid

I treat my babies right, treat my ladies ladylike

Hit them with a remix to make sure that they play me twice

I thought you said it's the return of the black kings

Luxurious homes, fur coats and fat chains"

In this manila envelope the results of my insanity

Quack said I crossed the line between real life and fantasy

Can it be the same one on covers with Warren Buffet

Was ducking the undercovers, was warring with motherfuckers?

Went from warring to Warren, undercovers to covers

If you believe in that sort of luck your screws need adjusting

In the world of no justice and black ladies on the back of buses

I'm the immaculate conception of rappers-slash-hustlers

My God it's so hard to conceive

But it all falls perfect I'm like autumn is to trees

The doc interrupted, he scribbled a prescription for some Prozac

He said: "take that for your mustard, boy

You must be off your rocker

If you think you'll make it off the strip before they 'Pac ya

Nigga you gotta be psychotic

Or mixing something potent with your vodka

It takes a lot to shock us

But you being so prosperous is preposterous

How could this nappy headed boy from out the projects

Be the apple of America's obsession?

You totally disconnected with reality

Don't believe in dreams

Since when did black men become kings"