I've yet to learn the secret art
Of having peace at heart
I take the angst and the anger, make a piece of art
And then I speak it, and I share it, and the piece departs
To find its home in the warmth of the people's hearts
If I don't have peace with me, how can I have peace with God?
It's all or nothing; you can't worship a piece of God
In fact, the piece of God's a facade where the secrets are
You worship God, remember God, until you're seeing God
And then your hearing and your seeing end up being God
And your hands and your feet end up being God
The human being, God
Only if the human beings knew who the human beings are
My Lord
I've got a soft spot for widows and killers
For orphans and oracles, for the saints and the sinners
For prophets and niggas
Every sura's a picture
Every word is a sentence
Every sign is a scripture
This world, this life is mostly lies and fitna
Everything in this world is cursed except for those who remember
So I opened the universe and wrote a poem in the center
A post-it note, you hold it close like your coat in the winter
This'll make the sky blush and make outer space spasm
Take the head of the devil, turn his castle to a chasm
.44 magnum in my Wird-ul-Lazim
Since before Adam and before atoms
A-T-O-M
A-D-A-M
Before B.C., A.D
A.M. P.M
Carpe Diem
T-H-E-M
[?]
A spirit, I could hear but I couldn't see him
Said "play Madison Square!" but I ain't believe him
Said "you'll sell out the garden, straight Adam and Eve 'em!"
"Then kick out the devil just to make you even."