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Some for the content, all for deliveryPick apart a rapper Vic'll heart attack'em visiblySerious as serious does, collect the wisdomRushed over to Premier for the ExorcismSpeak your mind, if it gets too scientificI'm a flying discus over ya hat, an' iron fist to colab'The kind of fix only to keep 'em coming backslammin the MP will have 'em comin at, yeahThey wanna know whatchya name, where ya come fromWhat's the game plan, same path for the lump sumdrink ya Long Island, gunnin' for the mass appealbig sword, only half a shield catch ya Vic arise wit'out breakin stridewithout miss or taken liessee I did it for years & years, keep a place insideTo the game that ya'll patronizeWho ya facin? I, V-I-C, mindstate blown apartMy pen hits the canvas to brandish you open heartsStill we building, keep the streets lateralPrem' brought it outta me, now I'll bring it outta youthe exorcist...[Primo]scratches: "It's the real ill microphone inventor!""Pass me the mic, guaranteed I'll rock it."SongtexteUh, I pay the charge like I'm Tony Ducks, it's only usThe power, the dollar, what holds me upLike a coward's revolver you fold under pressureMarciano punch-lines I throw in ta test ya chinWaiting ta be blessed againThe exorcist melt tracks down & necks'll spin, uhwhy you flow so fly, show both sidesdisrespectin' the game and I don't - know - whySomethin' you don't wanna battle withniggaz on the hackler shit, changin the rulesI'm the catalyst whose embarassmentkick a rhyme for usI do it for gun, hooptys '89 TaurusThere you go, here I come, feared by someSpittin fire, sear my tongue, hit by drunkLike I haven't hit puberty, how clear I comethe Radicals, Little Vic, Primo, draw it outta youThe Exorcist[Primo]scratches: "It's the real ill microphone inventor!""Pass me the mic, guaranteed I'll rock it."Lord, Jesus save us from the fires of hellSave us from all our desires as wellCause I ain't tryin' ta get popped or die in a cellI'm not tryin ta keep options for clentel'cause these streets kept me locked without applyin helpYoungens lookin up to me I'm, I rock Orion's BeltThey said the psycho's diary might inspire meHe use his own sick words to fight anxiety, yeahBut you have no clue what it's like inside of meLookin for a way out an' it's frightenin, I agreeCome one, come all flood the battle cruisePrem' brought it outta me now I'll bring it outta youThe Exorcist...[Primo]scratches: "It's the real ill microphone inventor!""Pass me the mic, guaranteed I'll rock it." Aus Songtexte Mania