Jay Electronica, The-Dream, JAY-Z - The Neverending Story lyrics

Have you ever heard the tale of
The noblest of gentlemen who
Rose up from squalor? Tall,  dark
 and decked out in customary regalia
Smellin' like paraphernalia
Hailin' from the home of Mahalia
His uptown smile was gold like
A Frankie Beverly day
His favorite song from Prince
Was not "Raspberry Beret"
It was "Sometimes It Snows In April"
He was brought up by the faithful
In the cage of every unclean bird
Ungrateful and hateful
The legend of the clandestine
Reverend from the Bricks
With the master's grip to pull the
Sleeping giant out the ditch
And I ain't even have to
Wiggle my nose like Bewitched
I just up-shift to six
Convert the V4 to a broomstick
Though I tarry through the valley of death
My Lord give me pasture
If you want to be a master in life
You must submit to a master
I was born to lock horns with the
Devil at the brink of the hereafter
Me, the socket, the plug
And universal adapter
The prodigal son who went from his own vomit
To the top of the mountain with
Five pillars and a sonnet
The autobiography read Quranic
Spread love like Kermit the Frog
That permeate the fog
I'm at war like the Dukes of Hazzard
Against the Bosses of the Hogs
Gip-Gip-Giggity, Alchemist put the icing
On the soliloquy
Let it be forever known that I
Niced up to pen something considerably
Jay Electollah Flomeini mainly
Is support mainly the fatwa he issued on
Al-Shayṭān was delivered plainly
It's the day of Qiyāmah
To the believers, I bring you tidings of joy
But if you want beef, I'll filet mignon ya
You could catch me bummy as fuck
Or decked out in designer
On I10 West to the desert
On a Diavel like a recliner
Listen to everything from a lecture
From the Honorable Minister Louis Farrakhan
To Serge Gainsbourg or Madonna or
A podcast on piranhas
What a time we livin' in
Just like the scripture says
Earthquakes, fires, and plagues
The resurrection of the dead

I'm a miracle born with imperial features
I'm a page turner, sage burner, Santeria
Chongón, December baby, my Orishas
Saint Hov, story takes place in ancient Egypt
They'll cut off the nose to spite their face
They'll steal ya Jesus
I can't tell Hattie White that blue-eyed
Version is make believe stuff
She throw me out the house, say
"Ye deliver us from this heathen"
I say that to Ms tina, she'll sneeze at sun
Her photic reflex
They both had straightening combs
Little did they know i hold the heat next
Neither tool can be used to fix our defects
PS we born perfect, fuck all the BS
Everybody wanna be us for real
We just gotta see us insha'Allah

I tried to turn a page, over a zillion times