Now, who is that? / oh, that be V.I.T.A.L. rocking that silhouette of a carcass / hardest wearing his bleeding heart upon his sleeve like starving artists / harmless maybe, some say he’s genius, others say he’s crazy / but the fact is that he’s rabid so practice running for safety / ‘cause he’s coming, flexing infectious breath like Pavarotti / kamikaze crashing and burning, snapping shots like paparazzi shit / though, he’ll admit to rocking a cocky façade / his works are penned with a bloodied quill just like the Marquis de Sade / in odd context with the onset of a God complex / unparallel views connecting his contrasting concepts / gifted and young in allegorical senses / censors his heaven brandished weapon through transcendence tremendous / splendid in semblance—so seminal there’ll never be no stopping / long as breath purveys his lungs and all you people keep on rocking / he’ll stay possessed, ‘cause in essence it’s all for ya’ll / until the first flat line of the final curtain call, it’s on /

C: Now, who rocks rhymes and stops time to infiltrate gridlocked minds and unlock their confines / you call him V.I.T.A.L. / the modest yet homicidal rival of anything vile scratching the surface to break it down, now / and who checks flows and throws them death blows, resurrecting the blessed till the essence is exposed / you call him V.I.T.A.L. / the ministry repping 3rd Eye Disciple, defending the faith of rhyme with no time to wait around /

I’m a commando like Rambo with unlimited ammo / assaulting every track that’s been stacking up ipso facto / scripted in cantos with such audacity / so Revolution’s my name, and your angst is the fuel that’s gassing me / up to erupt in flames and burn on / faster than a laser bullet, even louder than a detonating atom bomb / destroying the world like Babylon / defiant just like Genghis Khan / or Muslims eating pork on Ramadan like the American Taliban / a little crazy maybe but damn / I feel the fire in my blood to help me see who I am / so even if these words is hard like distorted guitars / salt my wounds all you want, I’m still proud of my scars / they’ve made me stronger / true realization of power on every level / citing a Live Insurrection like the God of Heavy Metal / so this set’ll lift you up in a euphoric mood / unless you ain’t got the brains and the testicular fortitude /

Chorus

Bridge: Let it burn / wanna let it burn / wanna let it burn / wanna wanna let it burn / we don’t need no water, let the motherfucker burn / (2 X’s)

It’s blitzkrieg to your brain / lining toxins in my sentences until your head hemorrhages from speaking my name / which, in the sense of pure adrenaline, is the sequence to frame / after we clip your cerebrum and have you screaming in pain / ‘cause V is for vehement verbals, vastly visionary / I is for intrepid, instinctual, incendiary / T is for the talented thought through transcending / AL, another life as we learning another lesson / incessant to siphon science / and thus the legacy is gonna be forever pondered over like the Mayans / and I insist you try your best, try to test / ‘fore I get in your mind like a psychiatrist / breaking the factors down to the smallest molecules and watch ‘em fester in place / and divide the cycle by a measure of space / the laws of nature broken fully and by example erase / their textbook definitions closed case—straight no chase /