Metacine by Zeroh Lyrics
Europeans have no women god in their mythology but we do
So what of the African mind in the west, drunk on fat
Clouded by a point of view uniquely burdened with 3rd party control strategies
When heroin hit [?] thugs pushing and peddling it to your daughters
When crack cocaine hit (crack cocaine)
We were, welfare queens and gang banger's in the streets
Now when the opioid pandemic hits
The health crisis has been announced
All societies are defined by their immediate choice
Do not think that the black mind in america is [?] of anything more
[?] ally
Highly combative genocidal drug cartel
You're unfit into the circle
The grounded root piles in the spoon (Emolga)
And laid to rest on your tongue
The Shaman says you're to have your head broken open completely once in your life
As your consciousness soars above the bonfire
Having gathered the firewood across the beach
Being guided by the governing voices
Nerve tingling pounding of skin
The elder greets you
Adorned in your neck with talismans and spells
Reciting the ancient incantations as if it were a modern should
As if it were indigenous to now
As if you hadn't been ripped from the timeline
Body laid long on the spoons of [?]
[?]
And, forever
You enter the hut, your nappy crop rinsed with herbs and roots
The priests hands, ashy, weathered
Bejeweled with artifacts from the beyond
Hover over the women's body as she convulses over alter
The wounds abrupt with [?]
So what of the African mind in the west, drunk on fat
Clouded by a point of view uniquely burdened with 3rd party control strategies
When heroin hit [?] thugs pushing and peddling it to your daughters
When crack cocaine hit (crack cocaine)
We were, welfare queens and gang banger's in the streets
Now when the opioid pandemic hits
The health crisis has been announced
All societies are defined by their immediate choice
Do not think that the black mind in america is [?] of anything more
[?] ally
Highly combative genocidal drug cartel
You're unfit into the circle
The grounded root piles in the spoon (Emolga)
And laid to rest on your tongue
The Shaman says you're to have your head broken open completely once in your life
As your consciousness soars above the bonfire
Having gathered the firewood across the beach
Being guided by the governing voices
Nerve tingling pounding of skin
The elder greets you
Adorned in your neck with talismans and spells
Reciting the ancient incantations as if it were a modern should
As if it were indigenous to now
As if you hadn't been ripped from the timeline
Body laid long on the spoons of [?]
[?]
And, forever
You enter the hut, your nappy crop rinsed with herbs and roots
The priests hands, ashy, weathered
Bejeweled with artifacts from the beyond
Hover over the women's body as she convulses over alter
The wounds abrupt with [?]