Pandemonium

[Verse 1: Concrete Cee (Brother Gil)] Back at his lab, the lair of his artistry Where limestone blocks are prepared, for lithography Everything I draw is a trace, of what I draw it from Honesty's the ingredient, most forgone it seems Hard-heartedly I boss around novices Probably remiss if I didn't, in my beginnings I took it a little scholarly to keep my mouth shut When a master speaks, nowadays they don't want a feature Life Path number 6 is the teacher, you see (The way is in the training, not the songs nor the battles either) Find me at the forge, melting down bars Folding layer after layer to a sword Weeks later, I sharpen the blade on the grindstone Months later, the edge about as fine as a comb Y'all don't stand a chance with them replicas you got at your homes Now compare the blacksmithing to the lines in a poem! [Hook: Concrete Cee] Pandemonium bars, from the heart Of a floating fortress, to the planetary conscious Tirelessly work until everything is conquered From the inside, at the core I'm a monster Pandemonium bars, at the summit I will kick you off the ledge, let you plummet to your death Go into Trance Mode before I cast Ultima Go into Trance Mode before I cast Ultima [Verse 2: Concrete Cee (Brother Gil)] Retribution 'nigh, no rest for the weary See my rivals heaped with praise, I guess they didn't hear me The first time, when I said that I can summon a spirit So viciously brutal reminiscent of Running With Scissors Just to think that his honest ambition's eviscerating Multiples of instigating kids that think they're lyricists in training He calls them by their maiden names, states they far Easier to keep in mind, when he swings by their parents' To tell them read the signs - Have your children come home yet? No? Wonder who's gone next? Shovels always on hand Spare me the cold sweat, you know the competition Is cut-throat, and figurative speech is not implied My brush stroke, paints the faces of the slain On the floor tiles of a haunted house, you can't erase the stains Go to sleep and next morning they're back again To remind you that going against I is not a game (Obsession with fame is the bane of your generation Most adversaries don't deserve the veneration) Indeed so, Gil, especially when they put the actual merits Of their work behind the public admiration Art has to be progressive, abstract, inventive If derivative, it has to be significantly different From the original, with a flavor that's individual The blackest of all magicks is readied, now I'll finish you with [Hook: Concrete Cee] Pandemonium bars, from the heart Of a floating fortress, to the planetary conscious Tirelessly work until everything is conquered From the inside, at the core I'm a monster Pandemonium bars, at the summit I will kick you off the ledge, let you plummet to your death Go into Trance Mode before I cast Ultima Go into Trance Mode before I cast Ultima Go into Trance Mode before I cast Ultima ...and now the game's over chumps!