Lupe Fiasco - Mural Jr. lyrics

Holy assumption of man into
The heaven's sphere
Many mansions fit champions within
It's seven tiers
Evangelists re-imagine every 11 years
Pause for applause
Evolves to what was never here
Born to death, born to die
Form the flesh, form the eyes
A veritable storm of winged
Forms swarms the skies
Marital norms unperformed but
The porn survives in the dorms of the scorn
They keep warm supplies
Gone to lose the use of tooth, horn and thigh
Before I was standing, I was landing
Two one hand, one man bands jamming in tandem
He who power naps
Then plans gathering ransoms
And maps man's laps in a
Hand lathered in absinthe
Got a talent trafficking ramblings
And handing out amazing handmade
Maps of the labyrinth

Out the back of the wagon
Out the back of the madam
Out the back of the Magnum
Then out the trap of enchantment
Bellerophon with a megaphone, Mega Man
Desert zone, run marathons with sweaters on
(sweaters on) that was so simple but hot
In a place where it's so simple but not
Closed temples and old little forgots
And rode whole chisels
Cripples who won't miss a salat
The old hoes that they won't give you a shot
But, you can get the whole pistol
It's gon' hit you a lot
These are real words from a savage mind
Unmaximized man on an average climb
Who don't deserve the whole truth
And only half your time
Fit the life of a whole booth
In only half a line in the future life
I don't even have to rhyme
We'll get the entire Armageddon with
Only half the signs
Just yields and rail roads
In lush fields with bell tolls
Couple huddles of the unskilled but well told
It's unreal how off one deal to sell souls
And he got 'em by the dozen
Medulla oblongata is what got
Them by the oven
Like how the moonshine is what
Got him by the cousin

He got her by the bottom and he
'bout to stick his tongue in
Such an unsettling scene
An obscene setting for the unwedding of rings
The sharpest dresser at the
Unheading of queens
The architecture is something
You've never seen dream clean
That's three words at the same time
And killed three birds with the same -
And won each and every hand
With the same bluff and
Answers each and every man
With the same question what is it? But
You still wanna know but I
Already done did it
I ball heavy, the physics
It's all, but it's already specific
If we doing what's already done
That means it's already terrific
That's rather meta-poetic
And just to acknowledge that
As an extra exhibit to
What's already within it
The galleries lack the wall space
So I made a gallery of galleries
Made of all space
If it was more small, it would be Moore's Law
From the land of the po' where we war, saw
From the hand of a pro to a whore jaw
Make her stand at the store
'til the snow thaw

Went from paper boy to editor
From throwing Ars Poetica with
The arms of Federer
On the porches and steps to
The farm houses of settlers
One of several sects who can
Come and charm the predators
We who measure the measuring
Tools of measurers
We who pleasure the pleasure
Tubes of pleasurers
We who lecture at treasured
Schools of lecturers
We who question the treasured
Rules of leveragers
Born to death, born to die
Mourn correct: immortalize in a war
Where your performance score is your salary
It's like fantasies combating your mortality
I'm just trying to restore sanity
Sigmund Freud boy, Leroy to your Vanity
To instill what kills krill destroys manatee
So heels spill but still seal
Deals that build factories
What looks Roman senator
Inner reveals Maccabees
Never just trust off guts
But what's actually unless it's Kuato's
Now, we back to pillars of salt
I recall back peeling potatoes
In hindsight, maybe attack of killer tomatoes
A seasoned shoulder's carrying
Plenty Pentium payloads

Now, that's another strata but
I was making sense then cop out
Took the highway and I was making chips
A nappy head Karate Kid
I was breaking bricks
Can fight like Tekken 5, even taking 6
This rehabilitation, I be taking trips
"Don't Ruin Us" God said, I won't make a dent
Hardly, but I'm still Harvey
I hope this making sense
Devil tooting his own horn
Don't come and take a sniff
In the streets you gotta fight
You get punished for taking whiffs
To make that change for your team
You gotta have New Jersey Drive and
A stomach for taking whips
I'm just trying to redeem

With these hands full of bars
Don't beat me for coming clean
To unify the hooks, if you know it
Then come and sing
Don't bust in while I'm asleep
Nightmares who come in dreams
Samurais rarely die from another sword
This is 1985 meets the hover board
That was Bobby Johnson potato
Just to underscore think deep
But don't let it fry your motherboards
Diptych, so now them paintings plural
But this is Jr's Mural