It's Hirst verses and Murakami rhyming All my raps is superflat, all your raps is super wack Tell him that the future's back, DeLorean rolling down the block You can call it shooting craps, and my roof is back And my wings is up Kingda Ka without Kahlua, so you ain't got to pour the king a cup Young Yakuza but, none of my fingers cut So I can still sip Red Zinger with my pinkies up Made man, you can call this cleaning up I'm OCD, I never think it's clean enough That's what defines me, I never think it's mean enough Lines deeper than those waiting on a sneaker, cuz You gone need two heads like the King of Clubs just to figure out the meaning ofI'm just achieving buzz so stay out of son way like you're drinking blood This is what it feels like to be in love I mean come on, I mean look at what I'm dropping here Do this for the block and the blogosphere No, you ain't ready for the heavy, so I'll keep it light as jogging gear I don't want the throne, I want the helicopter rocking chair Jay gave me a co-sign like I was RocaWear, but be clear I'm not the heir I'm the water, fire and the earth That means I'm doing dirt, spitting flames and quenching thirst And plus the real God has been on my side since birth I hope that he forgives me, I hope I do his work in every single verse Now I might do a dance, I might even jerk, tell them niggas don't hate Only God is great, Enemy Of The State