The Scientist

The scientist is a man who
Was learned how to think
At least about scientific matters
That's why he can do so many amazing things
But a scientist isn't supposed
To believe anything much
Unless it's supported by evidence

Lame foot soldiers get croaked in my vicinity
The ode for all murder, criminal activity
Diamond encrusted bracelets, escape death
Cars and yachts
I flaunt things that say success
So 'til the warden turns my electric chair on
Inside the LeBaron trunk, got Pakistan her-on
Nasir Jones, not a Capo, the Picasso
Word painter
Black Sinatra, rap King Cole, gangsta
Point blank body armor
I'm violence, you're the Dalai Lama
You just holla drama

Hovito Brigante, my own people that got me
That's what I get for snoozing
Moving too sloppy well I'm back brilliant
My brains is back in the building
The light's back on in the fridge, you dig?
Brand new and improved
Stage two of my groove same