TendaRoni:

Like the 10th plague, God called for my blood
to gush over poetry lines in a metaphysical flood
"letter to my first seed"- a testimony of His love
but the devil's wreath of clouds kept my eyes from above
sculptured from mud- he made this woman second best
- First Lady in Hades [though] because she won and conquered the "test"
Now this first seed, bleeds, excessively, a little more than the rest
because the daily is played out like a game of chess-
thought I should be queen of my own life
but [the] father beat me down to a whisper, so I'm Silence's wife
a broken mentality that had me sitting in that car
windows wound, fumes all around, didn't plan to go far
just far enough away from the bruises and broken spirit-
he did it everytime I was rebelling it, made me witness it
my own demise through His fatherly eyes

  The Truf:

How dare you straight-face thisson of the Sun
The Son of the Morning gonna make me put yall into mourning
(Im) Still feelin birthin pains from bein born again hard
The Devils enticing me to throw in my bid with the Yard
They say Im not livin hardIm livin hard -enough-!
Fell in addiction with a girl that got me by with a touch
I had to use my tongue to beat my hands into submission
Now a single finger serenades the world what theyre missin
As the Gorgon stare thats endemic of my race
Still freeze the hands of Time itself into place
So, full grown men remain known as just my boys
And instruments of killing we still call tools and toys
But I was drowned into life by my Uncle, the preacher
As I was born again of Christ, thats what they said and I believed it
So Im the son of the King; the first-born of royalty?
Then Im wonderin if lifes just a test of loyalty

  TendaRoni:

Loyalty in the trenches came at a cost
on the frontline with bleeding heart counting all my loss
He gave rise to this mentality "shoot first, ask later"
so without a conscience I dined with the devil and didn't tip the waiter
just to be that warrior my master [pen] demanded
rising at the crack of dawn starched and empty as commanded
I took each blow with gritted teeth and vacant eyes
never questioning my reality, paying no mind to "whys"
I, with diseased mind kept my eyes to the bronze snake
even as my coffin was put to rest and my enemies attended my wake
Putting all freedoms aside I suited up for His cause
slewing through hordes and the faithless to spread His laws
with bloodied mind and blackened heart- I froze
allowing narration of my story through bitter rhyme and prose
because His "letter to His first seed" condemned me
to swing, lynched and ashing before the wretched enemy

  The Truf:

But now an effigy of Christ, Himself, swings from my neck
Like Strange Fruit, the remix; earnin me respect
The Preacher calls it Deicide, hustlersthe truth
I asked my Father was it Evil, since its values in the Root
Ive been told strivin for the Sons an Icarus replay
Or the larceny of free will, like life is on Ebay
Just sold to the highest bidder, since you cant get bigger
Than the Son of God dyin for an ignorant n***er
So is my trust misplaced? Should I not seek His face?
I stuff the wax from my wings into my ears and freebase
With - words that were pilfered from Heavenly minds
Because I need to know Him better, if I claim that Hes mine
They say, all in due time. But time never gets its due
It just gluttonously takes little pieces out of you
So, for a little piece of peace, I sold a piece of my life
Five years to the government and charged that to -life-!

  TendaRoni:

Life after death as opposed to life during life
like a feast for the hungry without a fork or a knife
eating with bare hands through all the left overs and waste
feeling nothing but the emptiness and its bitter-honey taste
As my mentality goes to training- a veteran of the Void
seeing images of a life I had on a creased, dusty polaroid
Eyes down, chin up walking prepared [or though it might seem]
a brotherhood of soothsayers- 7th Sign Regime
ready with quill, armed and suited for the kill as assigned
like a warrior of the Tanakh- full fledged alligiance, walking blind
The devil is pulling strings- the frontline of my foe is loving it
but concrete lines this mind and I am only God's puppet
though [the] father cut me viciously with his palm marks across my face
I blink away all the infliction becoming numb, without a trace
Harnessing all the rage to be my backbone as I bleed
as I stand at the gates of Babylon reciting this "letter from His first seed"

  The Truf:

Im the first-born of divinity, Creation's culmination
The Sixth-day miracle. Its no surprise that Im facin
A reflection in the looking glass that could easily pass
For the original man with a Mesopotamian past
And aint much changedthe Devils still trickin, dude
I got a chunk in my throat, that remind me of what women do
So Im trippin with a disposition matchin my complexion
Serial cunnilinguist: I use my tongue as a weapon
As Deity formed brilliance from clay spoke out of nothing
So I use my Fathers gift to paint pictures out of nothing
The blessing of the first-born on African lips
Are the words of Creation that form transient predicates -
Written weapons of wisdom that make demons paranoid
The rose, reaching for the Son, makes a whole lotta noise
So, Father, forgive sins that I have yet to commit
And, rescind commandments that I have yet to forget
Cause this is my response, more than half a day remiss
A letter from your first-born. The revelations genesis