Sons of Jerusalem

Cherry-picking grave-robbers

It was Bush not the Clintons with a gay daughter

Slurry made from rainwater

Mixing in with construction, a little brain-fodder

What's that over yonder?

But a pile of the money that I squandered

Every path I wandered after crashing planes I chartered

First you got to mean something if you want to be a martyr

If I want to be a father got to reckon with this

I shouldn't even bother if I'm guarding a fifth

'Cause the odds of burning gardens off the art of the swish

Take you past the begging pardons 'cause you already switched

And I've started my departure from the paths I was shown

Past the avenues of addicts who told Jack he was home

Could you imagine if I hadn't? Turn my talents to stone

I'm the fact-check you lacking, got no backing to show

I been itching to abandon any sense of understanding

'Cause the management and labels can't acknowledge competition

Let me pitch a couple plans, and if y'all still hate where I'm standing

You can ditch the Planet Underground without the manned mission

I ain't bland, I just hate branding, I don't mean to be demanding

But I mean it without padding that it's tragic, my position

I don't need a hundred grand, I just need a hundred fans

All I'm asking, if you can, is please sit down and listen

Sons of Jerusalem

Those who think they above, let's go Medusa them

Jeru the damager blowing out a Buddha lung

You got a booty throwing at you, better move your tongue

They just want the crude to run, shooting what they do for fun

Cover up the truth in mud, Noah really knew the flood

Run your customs through customs

'Cause what you're accustomed to is nothing but a dungeon

Forgive me for my lateness

Thought it was some latency until I got impatient

Stepped outside of comfort zones where boundaries estrangement

A stranger like the Doctor, I've adopted what was taken

That nickel and gold-plated, simple and mosaic

Got diagrams fit for the dome in Stone Ages