Black Market (Mars Ill)

[Verse 1: manCHILD] The black market, where blue blooded emcees split red seas since it started Where beyond gold and platinum is the target Rockin it with real skill leaves greenhorns green with envy And rappin about your cherry red Benz still seems empty Where blue collar rhyme sayers really mean what they be speakin And the cat you rhyme behind's not donned by yellow streaks and Every week at open mics we paint the clouds with silver lining Perfect rhymes can't be achieved, but every moment is defining On time to spray your mind with some surrealist imagery Plus feed 5000 emcees with a single simile I got a metaphor, like just introduced to quadruplets Most heads want more, so I expose them like a nudist Yo, you're Alicia Silverstone type clueless to the fact That we bring El Shaddai to ciphers at points all across the map So black, take it to my chest, you know I'll bring it back to you The black-market, be white hot, or leave here black and blue. [Hook: x2] Underground is the sound of rebirth So my turf keeps me locked down with the Godsound under earth While I'm destined for the sky, Adonai is the target Still I can't escape the Black Market [Verse 2: Playdough] Deep into the black record crack while I'm incognito Disguised for surprise dressed down in tuxedo With the mushpot, Christ and hip-hop I'm steady jugglin And bargainin the jargon in the Church where I'm smugglin my rhymes That's the crime so they label me a criminal Now people in the steeple gotta keep rap subliminal Or unseen and heard not a word to the pews They fear the ill tattoos, plus my check one twos Nevertheless I press, keeping raps righteous They wanna test my effervesce, cuz it's so effortless On metronomes, their fleet can't defeat my poem I circle the globe to make the whole world my home But cancel that, this is only the place I travel at So I'm wandering sound for holy ground habitat Where the rabbits at? Under the earth working my phono You searching for your crew while I'm flying Han Solo [Hook] [Verse 3: ManCHILD] I call shots like a referee, fighting for your destiny Sound the reverie, settle the score like a refugee Selected pedigree when I rock so steadily And then burn the ideals of the world in effigy [Playdough] while me and Freddie B. are more underground than they could ever be We're reverently riding blue skies we're seeing seldomly From pushing envelope with cross hairs and scope Locked onto the bullseye, so watch it as I pull my [manCHILD] Hollow tipped scripts come equipped to spit darts I'll take my shot in the dark, it ain't a walk in the park Finish to start, these cats are still jacking the art But me, I dominate the market that's as black as their heart [Playdough] Inside the ventricles, I flip it around to make receptacles And fill with Mars ILL Harmonic is apostolic And intercede, so you no longer bleed the night I'm chasing shadows in sound battles, filling markets with light. [Hook x2]