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Diabolic
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Frontlines (Instrumental)
Diabolic feat. Immortal Technique
I two-step with Lucifer and ever since I started dancin'
I've walked a fine line between Einstein and Charles Manson
Starving in this famine with my stomach growling
Like someone shouting, a hundred thousand times louder than thunder pounding
Fuck around and I'll punch your mouth in
I'm king of the mountain with my life in this project like it's public housing
Countin' on the fact I firebomb entire songs
And won't stop until the worlds inside my palm like Viacom
Diabolic I'll supply the higher wattage via fiber optic wire
Until you acquire some kinda knowledge
Cause life made me grow wiser than old-timers
Hot-headed like the ghost rider behind a slow driver
Sole survivor flowing lava's second nature
So don't test, it's best to save your breath like respirators
I'll throw a punch at your ribs that gives your lungs asthma
And has you pouring out your guts faster than Dutch Masters
Drunk bastard past the point of no return
Like Denzel tricking Ethan Hawke into smoking sherm
Judgement overturned held in court like Mordecai
Immortalized when I make statues bleed and portraits cry
I'll go to war for mine, Rebel Army guard the border
I'm in the trenches barking orders like I'm Sergeant Slaughter
Pray to Jesus H. for mercy and plead your case
Cause on the frontlines you're dead the second that you see my face
This is the frontline
This is the dead-zone
Barely alive or in a box is how you head home
This is the frontline
This is the life that I chose
I thought I told you muthafuckas to lock and load
They said that the success of my music was theoretic
But my revenge is sweet enough to murder diabetics
Eugenics Procter and Gamble credit racial science
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Couldn't produce a more aggressive intellectual giant
Nephilim, bury em' with the bullets left in them
My heart is blacker than the children of Thomas Jefferson
Blacker than back in the days of tar and featherin'
A cancerous endocrine the eagle that's American
The hatchet and the sticks the fascist emblem
You could call it conspiracy theory
I don't give a motherfuck
You could get your mother fucked
National security's a code-word for cover-up
Hold that down I look at character
Never let the color get to ya
I got white Revolutionaries like Muslims in Chechnya
Percussion thumping like the Russian Mafia over ya
But even they know what it's like when you fighting for Svoboda
So whether Slavic or Islamic vodka/gin tonic
Drunken fantasies are cool son but here's the grim logic
You niggas wanna play industry and starve to be rich
Until they fuck you for millions like Paul McCartney's bitch
My lions live inside a box like Jumanji
Sikh niggas that'll stab you up like Indira Gandhi
So never desecrate the space on which I meditate
My thoughts rip through tank-armored metalplates
And start to resonate to the spot where Moses caused the sea to separate
The place that the Prophet Muhammad started to levitate
The exact moment that Jesus rose dead awake
And Siddhartha became the Buddha that regenerates
Half a bar over but I bring it home colder than dead soldiers
Soul controller holder of knowledge so fuck Dianetics
I'm like the whole library in Kemet with Annunaki genetics
This is the Frontline the people first; one time
Thirty-two and a little somethin' ah ha ha
33-Degrees motherfucka go home and figure it out
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