Stigmata Lyrics

Righteous man
Walk with me
Bear the burden

Yo, yo, yo, no, no
Don't do you dare, cast one stone in air
I'm cracking stone with bare hands, you're a mere man
I know my stoners here, all my visionaries
Shades in the night, that's a scary sight
I'm never in the dark though, my squad the brightest circle
Watch with the internet alone I enlighten the whole globe
That's iTunes from a nigga with astigmatism
I got it from my moms, thank you Steve Jobs
You took my grandpa job and you gave me a job
Not just a physical but digital way of displaying my rhymes
And making these kind people pay a fine
I've been through a lot, I deserve a lot, this work's fine

I carry the cross, if Virgin Mary had an abortion
I'd still be carried in the chariot by stampeding horses
I'm more than a man, I've been died and rose again
Left these holes in my hands, so you know who I am
Stigmata, stigmata, stigmata, stigmata, stigmata, stigmata
Yawk-Yawk-Yawk-Yawk
Stigmata, stigmata, stigmata, stigmata, stigmata, stigmata

From the fiery pits, on some Dead Poet's Society shit
Here to bring you a variety mix
Grab my dick, violently spit
Cause I don't give a fuck about the type of shit
Batty boys are on, get your vaginas wet
And you shaking in your ballet shoes
At the restaurant we valet twos, bad news
Half moons on ten goons, uh
On the four wheeler shredding up the sand dunes
There's something wrong and that's quite clear
I smell deception in the night's air
That shit is sweeter than a ripe pear
For your love, I cut my right ear

I carry the cross, if Virgin Mary had an abortion
I'd still be carried in the chariot by stampeding horses
I'm more than a man, I've been died and rose again
Left these holes in my hands, so you know who I am
Stigmata, stigmata, stigmata, stigmata, stigmata, stigmata
Yawk-Yawk-Yawk-Yawk
Stigmata, stigmata, stigmata, stigmata, stigmata, stigmata

Oh no, no, no they didn't
Cause these ain't bars, these prisons
Walk with me, every step I take in these Visvims
Real rare breed, cut from the cloth like
A phoenix feather when I write, molotov, yikes!
You seen them flowers bloom, know that they grew in despair
A blessing in disguise, nobody knew it was there
My crown had been made, I just had to put it on
Now I spread my wings and let the bird of dawning sing its song
And when my grandpa died I broke down and cried
But still I am more than a man, I am a God
Sweetest is pain amongst all of the thriller things
I been through enough and so I need all of the iller things

One of these days some simple soul will pick up the Book of God
Read it, and will believe it
Then the rest of us will be embarrassed