If God was an emcee,each man must be a bar in the verse,
And the lord can't be bent,see,there's no barring a curse,
You can't censor the almighty power,can't change or tune the station,
And the divine mic be powered,with the death you soon be facin',
You confused,you pacin'?Let me explain my theory in fact,
Pay heed to this communication,the thoughts i'm exploring in rap,
When a man dies,his life energy is converted to a different form,
What can't fall can't fly,you can observe the things in a storm,
Thunder,lightning,the showers of rain,all seperate forms of same energy,
There is no such thing as power in vain,now what you lames never see,
Is that energy will forever be existing in one form or the other,
Weak is just one form of life while strong is another,
It's all the same,physics combined with metaphysical facts,
So I done called the game,i know he lays lyrical tracks,
And we are the bars,life is the beat,so you gotta ride it with style,
But so often we struggle and fight with the beat,he just writes shit and smiles,
Thinking he's got some hot rhymes,but he makes a mistake,
Forgets these bars they got minds,but there is a way out of this state,
Now the rhymes may be stunning and heat,but it's not a hot track,
Unless the bars are one with the beat,but once you got that,
A harmony between the rhymes and the beat,between life and the living,
Now go re-read the line and repeat,where you see a mic,I see a vision.