Lyrics of 'The Empire' by Shing02

You can't predict the future not even 24 hrs ahead, that's why I act swiftly producing classics when the last leaf is smoked life is over, so I'm always on the move going extras on the Streets of Frisco, Ice-transparent MC seeks refuge on the West Side You are your own rival, which is your only path for survival Hiphop west coast whip out the iron on the 18th hole legendary like J.Nicklaus, check my grip- on the mic in the land of the survival of the fittest no tricks just a straight battle, throw the opponent on the first move then leave the place Destroy the twisted linguistic barrier, a prophet blasting lyrics hold the controller and deliver the blow Brain-stimulating drama, one card short of a Royal Straight Flush and I pull in the last card blind-folded too late for regrets, unnecessary ones get cut off at an early stage, round off the digits while I rest I absorb the information
The genius arrives unexpectedly like a comet, or even a M8.0, lyrical terrorism unshakable confidence, time for revolution guerrilla warfare send telegrams to the mother country, 1996 Tokyo B-Boy, Shingo2 verbal surgeon installing vertebrae in hunchback mc's post-operation symptom confuses the grammar, distorted subject and verb, re-assess the social measures with the metrics tacked around my waist, internationally-flying agent from the underground unidentified, carrying self-destructive info inside exploding powerbooks, flying power hooks, right straight, and a jabbing deja-vu, resurrected undisputed champ greedy fools get served drowning in hedonism, just a repetition of history Waiting to be conquered, the Pacific, Atlantic, India Avoid the peril of travelling to and fro of ying and yang, penetrate the atmosphere of slump, hand down the mc-line, the phenomenon of complete combustion, a breed destined to battle, guaranteed plus an illegal shot to the throat, tear the trachea and enter the nearby sewer to reach the underground spreading open wound, the heartbeat resonates with the drum, taiko, psycho-ripping beat makes your ass dance, maintaining the balance walking the rope, residents with 12inch blades will come lynch you in a foreign land, drop off the luggage at the designated spot on the dot, that's a phantom repentance Lyricist that witnessed life in Africa, now warning lazy simpletons with a piercing siren