Lupe Fiasco — Mural Jr.

[Verse] Holy assumption of man into the heaven's sphere Many mansions fit champions within its seven tiers Evangelists re-imagine every 11 years Pause for applause, evolves to what was never here Born to death, born to die Form the flesh, form the eyes A veritable storm of winged forms swarms the skies Marital norms unperformed but the porn survives In the dorms of the scorn, they keep warm supplies Gone to lose the use of tooth, horn and thigh Before I was standing, I was landing Two one-hand, one-man bands jamming in tandem He who power naps, then plans gathering ransoms And maps man's laps in a hand lathered in absinthe Got a talent trafficking ramblings And handing out amazing handmade maps of the labyrinth Out the back of the wagon, out the back of the madam Out the back of the Magnum, then out the trap of enchantment Bellerophon with a megaphone, Mega Man Desert zone, run marathons with sweaters on (sweaters on) That was so simple but hot In a place where it's so simple but not Closed temples and old little forgots And rode whole chisels, cripples who won't miss a salat The old hoes that they won't give you a shot But you can get the whole pistol, it's gon' hit you a lot These are real words from a savage mind Unmaximized man on an average climb Who don't deserve the whole truth and only half your time Fit the life of a whole booth in only half a line In the future life, I don't even have to rhyme We'll get the entire Armageddon with only half the signs Just yields and rail roads In lush fields with bell tolls Couple huddles of the unskilled but well told It's unreal how off one deal to sell souls And he got 'em by the dozen Medulla oblongata is what got them by the oven Like how the moonshine is what got him by the cousin He got her by the bottom and he 'bout to stick his tongue in Such an unsettling scene An obscene setting for the unwedding of rings The sharpest dresser at the unheading of queens The architecture is something you've never seen Dream clean, that's three words at the same time And killed three birds with the same-- And won each and every hand with the same bluff and Answers each and every man with the same question What is it? But you still wanna know but I already done did it I ball heavy, the physics It's all, but it's already specific If we doing what's already done, that means it's already terrific That's rather meta-poetic, and just to acknowledge that As an extra exhibit to what's already within it The galleries lack the wall space So I made a gallery of galleries, made of all space If it was more small, it would be Moore's Law From the land of the po' where we war, saw From the hand of a pro to a whore jaw Make her stand at the store 'til the snow thaw Went from paper boy to editor From throwing Ars Poetica with the arms of Federer On the porches and steps to the farm houses of settlers One of several sects who can come and charm the predators We who measure the measuring tools of measurers We who pleasure the pleasure tubes of pleasurers We who lecture at treasured schools of lecturers We who question the treasured rules of leveragers Born to death, born to die Mourn correct: immortalize In a war, where your performance score is your salary It's like fantasies combating your mortality I'm just trying to restore sanity Sigmund Freud boy, Leroy to your Vanity To instill what kills krill destroys manatee So heels spill but still seal deals that build factories What looks Roman senator inner reveals Maccabees Never just trust off guts, but what's actually Unless it's Kuato's Now, we back to pillars of salt, I recall back peeling potatoes In hindsight, maybe attack of killer tomatoes A seasoned shoulder's carrying plenty Pentium payloads Now, that's another strata but I was making sense Then cop out, took the highway and I was making chips A nappy-head Karate Kid, I was breaking bricks Can fight like Tekken 5, even taking 6 This rehabilitation, I be taking trips "Don't Ruin Us" God said, I won't make a dent Hardly, but I'm still Harvey, I hope this making sense Devil tooting his own horn, don't come and take a sniff In the streets you gotta fight, you get punished for taking whiffs To make that change for your team, you gotta have New Jersey Drive and a stomach for taking whips I'm just trying to redeem With these hands full of bars, don't beat me for coming clean To unify the hooks, if you know it, then come and sing Don't bust in while I'm asleep, nightmares who come in dreams Samurais rarely die from another sword This is 1985 meets the hover board That was Bobby Johnson potato, just to underscore Think deep, but don't let it fry your motherboards Diptych, so now them paintings plural, but this is Jr's Mural