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1. |
Apple Coke Classics
03:52
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I’m all in, going whole hog with the coleslaw
Apple in its mouth with a gold grill, chill, you’d better hold off
Nah, hold on tight because the ride is doozy
Handcrafted basket straight to hell
Gun rapper tongue tied to an Uzi
Don’t try to reduce me, you’re GNC vitamin abusing
surviving Lollapolooza, the height of Medusa,
See indeed, the light is fading on your time of day in Talladega
I’ll take a palindrome and smack you back and forth, no alligator
Well, maybe they’ll be using you for ballast later,
so i take it back, tapes and DATS, shaking up, the challenge, fader
My callous cadence evading chances to interact with me
I’m claiming apple picking when I’m up in that tree
Flashlight is done, hiding more than a couple of gs
Just for the taste of it, no diet rhyme amaziness, please
Talking trash?
Here’s a leash
You’re be walking it back
The bearded beast
Saying peace, playing possum and splat
Bobby Knight’s a gum flapper, Gene Keady means business
Plus he’s got a helmet made of hair that gleams wicked
You’d need arm replacement trying to hit his armored melon
A Purdue hat, I could use that as a shark repellent
Gene Keady beanie babies leave Chucky in tears
Fighting Boyka to a draw and then he’d buy him beer
Got Billy Idol smiling when he’s trying to sneer
The cantankerous legend, forever presence is feared
The national treasure slash gargoyle, crazy feat
great whites rock necklaces made of his baby teeth
I’ll take his five against you even if you’re 80 deep
Got Bear Gryllz buying hair pills, you can save receipts
Plus got chills running down the polar bear spines
Mind sharp enough to make even solar flares blind
With a "no one cares" sign near your brittle arguments
Even got Chuck Norris hiding inside of the bargain bins
A sniper tried taking coach out from the mezzanine
The bullet stopped, turned around midair and hit the gun instead of Gene
Even got Bob Dylan willing to chill with speech therapy
He’s verily ill, sleek, rare and mean
Even Black Dynamite is taking notes, the main event
Away is where the haters go, no need to debate again
Rated ten? Maybe out of five, you’ll never make it out alive
No holding gats strictly gold and black save the jive
Home games sponsored by Rogaine,
off of the top rope swinging gold chains, promos with no flames
Compared to the man, you are not dope
Bow down and talk slow, hope that it's Tuesday and mow down on tacos
The moss grows on stones that won’t roll
Claim to swim but you barely dipped, with toes oh so cold
Below is the monster that creeps
Organic feather boa in its teeth from steady chomping on geese
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2. |
Bird Bath
03:25
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When I was younger, had a Cavs poster, Larry Nance
Nowadays in my pocket I opt to carry plans
Never figured my descriptor would have married man
A couple sons and wife, without a family van
Pulling up to the gig with a busted rear view
Scuffed up, stuck in a trap that must appear new
Must clutch something with snazz corrupted peers use
I’m the one doing the worm within your ear tube
Giving something catchy that’ll stick to your ribs
Sanitation pick of the litter, so listen to this
The mediocre actor with his original script
So I hire body doubles for the video bits
Pen game sharp, but the charisma disappeared
Emerging from the chrysalis abyss that drips a tear
Persistent twitching is the symptom plus a side effect
The flavor injector professor with the gift that I select
Another burnt batch preferring to crash,
My word salad murderously serving it fast
Observe the blast radius, past the lax mania
Taint it and slash, slow burn Coburn, I’m making it last
Another burnt batch preferring to crash,
My word salad murderously serving it fast
Observe the blast radius, past the lax mania
Tainted the stash, slow burn Coburn, man I’m making it last
If you’re getting defensive, maybe there’s a reason for it
My train of thought, i seek and board it with the peak endurance
Elite assortment of swordsmen, rise and greet the morning
I feed the storm inside my soul and never keep it dormant
So scan the radar, forget whatever they are
The cost is epic, so wreck the set and rep with paint bars
Visualize the cinematic rap DJs are spinning backwards
Logo made of crop circles, standing in a pasture
Arms crossed, armed with thought, my brain the arsenal
From Cape Canaveral I land and plan to blaze the carnival
I’m here to outdo myself prepare for song growth
I’m building compost piles higher than Eric Montross
The long shot, distance between inception and bomb drop
Far beyond driven there’s no taking me, c’mon boss
what you thinking? My bad, your cranium’s an echo chamber
Bouncing off the words you just heard, observe the wreckage later
This beat’s got me moving with spastic abandon
Puffing my chest out huge you could put a passenger van in
Neural networks connect with this a rapid expansion
Calmly perched upon the precipice when mapping this anthem
I’m imparting prose, who knows what evil lurks in hearts of those
Hard to go further traveling upon a tarnished road
Gravel sticking in between the tread of my shoes
The herringbone pattern interruptor, blessing the groove
Used pens to pick the stones out between class periods
Nike Flights right before the lites, grail serious
Just like the ROMs of yore, I can’t track them down yet
But what’s the rush I’m dwelling in the underground bet
No running ‘round stressed in another town, done for now
Dumping out text fertilize another hundred rounds
A bumper crop, head on collisions with vision blurred fast
Feeling thirst cats slurping worms from the bird bath
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3. |
Burn the Cape
03:55
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I’m Benny the Bull, smashing a Ford Taurus into your china shop
The chandelier falls open the driver door, mic is dropped
The sound of crunching glass, embedded in monster truck tires
Grab my megaphone & shouting out we’ve had enough liars
Got no time for tase unless it’s Kings and Ices, bring the crisis
Pack a plexiglass box so egos can Shrink inside it
You’d best to blast off and find a new planet
You NASA Move fastest, your once upon a time little crew vanished
And when the smoke has cleared, it’s nothing but my silhouette
Steve Caballero, standing over you with a tilted neck
I’m Jesus Christ in your temple, it’s time to bill collect
A stage strong enough to hold me, man they haven’t built it yet
You think I’m kidding, betting vs. me is lost bucks
You’re Mayweather, ducking Paquiao until he’s washed up
You’re a coward hiding inside of a mansion, posing threats
When you couldn’t break a bill in terry towels soaking wet
These cats are huffing fumes off dust plumes from fallen legends
Feeling judgemental, well I’ma call the session
Either got it or you don’t, the classics remain
But fuel evaporates fast with miraculous fame
I commandeer the spot with tarantula movements
Don’t need an anthem to prove it, cancel them man, cause your plans are just stupid
Champion San adamantium belt of the victor raising it high enough
Let the sky kiss it, scrape a satellite and wipe the dust
Astronauts hold services, above the firmament closest
Chanting dead language incantations, burning a crocus
The church is a ghost ship piloted by the remains of lost souls
In pastels of the records of the those who have passed, I paint the cross roads
My pen is a relic crafted of vestigial parts embellished
The medicinal archer, starting to leave a mark so zealots start to yell it
Part Magellen, finding my way through life with a map carved in vellum
Adapting to a violent environment, in the darkness dwelling
The gruesome illusionist losing his mind inside of a huge abyss
Tightrope walking on a blackened thread, praying the sutures fit
Stubbing my toe on cobblestones, hobbling home to a goblin’s throne
An author lost within this troubled metropolis, novices gnawed to bone
Hitting up O’Hare with a passport with more stamps than they’d asked for
Decals plastered on everyone around me, the crash course
Crass hordes reaching past the cash drawer
trying to press the silent alarm, trying to harm, harass, swarm my masked form
My brain is a vast storm where the pressure fronts collide and scrap
This is a repossession, you’re never getting your tiny title back
And I can rap a spirograph around that style you’re trying to back
You’re giving up, I’m pushing harder reaching round that final lap
Buddies got you gassed up, why don’t you try to siphon that
Making a shank from your medallion, I’m laughing watching the knife collapse
You tried to catch me off guard, but I’m on point, your loss scars
Making my basketcase and closing statement, you pay the cost, sarge
Lost your charmed life in bar fight, I’m with Redman in the dark side
A bizarre ride in a fresh van better bet San’s going harm mics
Getting a carbine at the par five from a large guy with a shark tie
I’m a Son of Zadok, you’re simply wishing on a star shine
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4. |
Loch Ness Mobster
03:40
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It’s on and it’s not a pair of suede tearaways
Try to take it back, but it’s more than a phase
Nice try champ, but your camp is weak
Got attacked by a bear and you can’t retreat
I’m singing Kumbaya with a Manson beat
Voodoo doll dude becoming a dance machine
Who to call? Maybe U-Haul to cart it away
I’m sorry man, was there something you started to say?
Your cardigan is fancy, but it’s dark in that cave
So nobody’s going to see you for the fashion parade
Bashing away with audacity, perhaps you’d behave
Flashing spectacular chains and Cadillacs in the flames
I’m here to rattle the cage, and frazzle the fragile today
With phrase attacks waged to slay the babble you claim
What in Carmen San Diego are you talking about
Trying to get provocative, but man you’re soft in the mouth
numbly walking on the coals of a burned bridge
Somewhere inside my soul is a cursed script
and the poison runs deep, feel the earth shift
Was getting to the journey’s end really worth this?
I’ll book studio time to record raps that I haven’t written
What’s the worse that could happen, half a cataclysm
Word to Kevin Beacham I’m time traveling
Align my orbit with the satellite I sat within,
Peel my grimace back, perhaps I then unwrap the grin
Was it victory, or just a game they had us win?
I must admit the rush was great, but then it faded fast
Yellow brick ground down to powder, we made the path
On a crusade for new way to prove faith is enough
In the meantime, cheers, I’m raising a cup
Counting down all the days in the month until they’re gone
Then I start it all over when I’m building this song
I try to never say that I can’t wait for something to be here
Regardless of approaches, time will disappear
And who am I, but another trying to hold strong
As though holding on could ever change I’m, so wrong
So anytime you’re feeling cocky and you want to talk
I’m Tom Chambers, fast breaking with the Tomahawk
Listen to your mama squawk, aftermath phenomenon
The kamikaze commandant bombing on the often wrong
I heard you got a rep and left a tag in Rotterdam
But honest man, you thought you’d reach the promised land with comic sans
Trying optimism, what remains is scorn
My rose colored glasses have a frame of thorns
life can put a stop to things that you hope to accomplish
Getting close only to end up getting roasted, despondent
Broken upon a road when the journey barely began
Littered tombstones, where the conquered buried each plan
Then again, shallow graves are dug with shuffling feet
When given a chance to be heard, man we muffle the speech
Nobody builds better walls that can never be climbed
Than when we box ourselves in, it’s working every time
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5. |
Mom Jeans Cowboy
03:52
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Find me, repeatedly beating them down, with rhyme schemes
I mean, you need to be leaving the house at light speed
Precisely, no beacon of hope is here, so move west
A few steps, consider then growing a beard, a new rep
To suplex, so sick of the posing with tears, insist that
You quit that, your cinema scope isn’t here, it's wick wack
Try to take a selfie, I’m Mutombo stopping the shot
A wagging fingerprint inside your camera, that’s the block
These jaw jacking jackdaws are running around half-cocked
Are soon found stumbling down a staircase in a lab lost
With the Gap Band in the Muzak at the cat scan that your dude’s at
Finna tap dance in the rat race til the last days of the boot camp
So WHO RAH to your new job with your suit straight from a Groupon
That your great aunt with tube top couldn’t take back with her bouffant
Gotta hate that I remind you with every single hole punch
Better face facts that the Kaiju never waste stacks on the gold fronts
It’s not overcompensation, it’s a truck with a sticker on it
Got a snake in the shape of dump that i’ve taken,
On its tail is rattle and the message is fierce
Stepping in this here is going to leave you messy for years
Got a gas mask with a Cash app, got to feed keeping the trash capped
In a hatchback jalopy that is sloppy with some rat traps
Got boots on with the goo gone interview's on the screen now
From Detroit better move on with the rebound, that he found
The Worm, steadily hitting the flippers as the lights flicker
Another randy fool grabbing his family jewels screaming my liver
Beefing with a beatjack to retreating with a peace hat
And the reason for the sweet nap that you're taking, well it seems that
A retract could have helped you, but it's too late it had fell through
What the hell dude, shot yourself in the shelltoes, got a shell tube
advising guy the guy with the Visine in a fight scene to ease back
Not Kyrie but it might seem you're hiding in a ski mask
I see that, treat you like his idiot earth, you'll to leave flat
I pity the words to speak from rehab to relapse
BeeGats snapped the heat rash on your knee caps in a e class
Better react with an evacuation, tasting defeat with each jab
You appear, stunned, up here with a virulent spear gun
Abundantly clear I fear none, I’m running to clear my ear drums, a beard sponge
Highly absorbent, Jihad with the sweet socks
Finally rivals forfeit clutching bibles by the forest
When the beat drops I’m walking away without the slightest sign of soreness
Combining forces with Agent Orange deface your whining portaits
I’m Cool like Keion Clark with veins full of freon sparks
Beyond all the parts fully charged, yelling Yee haw! for a lark
Sawed off the side of the see saw for my cheat code from the below
Better reach slow with your weak show, sipping miso at bistro
Your license getting revoked plus your key card with a heat stroke
Worn down from all the ins and outs, man you keep goin
While you've gone deep in your mom jeans at a concert of Jason Aldean's
I'm at Aldi's scoring deals on brie like y'all need a withdrawal squeeze
With the gym shoes that've been used til the insoles are Swiss cheese
Plus a ski lift to get you inside of your truck, so tough and pristine
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6. |
Mouth that's Starving
03:23
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Got your Adams apple bobbing to the beat
swallowing your pride with the words that I speak
I’m done with rapping cats acting like they’re dim-witted
Throw a meat hook in a shark’s fin, take a swim with it
I’d play a tape and walk away with the word domestic
And say to myself damn man, that word’s the freshest
I’ve got to take it, find a way to flip it properly
Talking all that Jazz, but never sick of Saucony
Resurrect the rebel and my vessel's not a novelty
This is just the way that I am, impress camaraderie
No reciprocity, when I give props, you're flyer
Heavy handed compliments navigate and pop a tire
Hip hop MacGuyver old soul inside a modern rhymer
Modified the ride, Kashal-Tee the chief mechanic
With the wisdom that he’s given, these cats’’ll need to panic
Feedback concede the static, react and speak combative
spray cans sitting in the grass on the other side
envy's litterbug patch running dry
Bits of love sent with emerald eyes
Back and forth watch the sentinels fly, there’s no lie
Metaphorically, I stick to my guns
Banana clips with gorilla glue weighing a ton, unloading none
Number 1, don’t need a bullet to prove it
50 foam fingers swinging in the air, bringing the movement
None of them are itchy with a trigger effect
On safety like the 26 that Woodson niftily repped
Now in stereo, a baker’s dozen
Save the ego tripping rubbish for Jerry Jones
I’m way above it
My flavor crushing paper chasing muppets and complacent buzzards
Each statement’s blazing pages namely for the sake of justice
Do they really need to fake abundance, shaking hundreds
Find a DJ they can pay to bump it, ain’t it something
Checking with the data crunchers, use it all for write offs
Mend fences make money, reduce the brawl to bygones
But letting bygones be bygones is my fight song
Especially when it’s fake from the jump, shake the Krylon
I try explaining, but my vision here is panoramic
Billboards of Standard Pattern slamming magic can’t imagine
I chant emphatic perchance to land and cancel wackness
A noble abbot with the scroll, behold a plan sporadic
The champ is at it again, extend a hand to damage
Open palms soaked in napalm, the olive branch is tattered
Fumes raising removing fingerprints of true favorites
Few traces are found when all is done, soothsayers
Who favored the crude faded away with bruised cases
Crusading for the wrong cause, their one tooth aching
Mutating in the latest of golden calves
Parading in the town square, hidden in a molten mask
Holding fast to the hunger that motivates them
Patiently biding their time until returns the mayhem
A grey gem dully gleaming in a withered satchel
The weight of passed judgement, clutch and kiss the gavel
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7. |
Pez Dispenser Neck
03:51
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And the Lord said, “Agent Orange, rock those Cortez.”
But make sure to get a matching pair of velour sweats
Portrait of a king, rolling round in George, red
October in the back with the critters she force fed
Reaching for another heater, rubber gloves, forceps
Leonard Part VI, Fournette in a Corvette
Special delivery, G Depp at your door step
Uppercuts at candy rappers, hoping to score Pez
So snap back, relax, my rap snacking is more fresh
Miraculous attack the track tackling sore necks
Simply stated, if you don’t want it, don’t set it
You’re a bootleg Jerome Bettis with a coke fetish
Scores slept, maybe they’ll eventually arise
Don’t intend to be another, my identity is mine
Forget a better pedigree, I don’t have energy to lie
From Chesapeake to the place that we can mentally arrive
The propensity to test the armor density relentlessly
Sensitive gents and frenemies get overstressed and jet indeed
Wandering amidst the treacherous memories cloaking me
Openly scoping for some weaknesses they can/could seek to grow with grief
Rotary phoning me, circles turn inside of iron demons
The grotesqueries of my arena, try to see them
Notes and remedies hemorrhaging feathers from an angel’s wing
A fatal fling but the highs really made it sing
Try flipping me the bird, I’ll tar and feather every digit raised
Laser guided focused on the target, no ricochets
Sick of strays, randoms in the thickets, grazed
Panicking and drift away, and I promise, nobody’s going to miss you babe
Your image is frivolous how you holding up
Under all the cosmetics embedded a soulless nub
The floss fetish mirage has got you glowing golden dust
sober as a judge, hold a grudge with a cobra clutch
Open up a keg forget your pitiful cans
I’ve got you ditching every bit of your original plans
I heard your miserable jam, the one you spit and ran
I’m inhibiting the way you breathe, so sick of the scams
Several sucrose sibilants you’re chiseled in sand
Thinking that you’re going to last when there isn’t a chance
Find yourself imprisoned wizening away with your camp
Waving a flag closely watched as the craven advance
I’ll be blazing the jam, from basements of mayoral hopefuls
To bars or the all ages stages, I slay with vocals
I paint proposals in the shade of opal, maybe could have made it global
But that’s unlikely, I’m staying local
I traveled enough, being where I am is where it’s at
The F the O the R and the T, nothing could compare to that
I’m your coworker, using big words at lunch break
Not to curry favor, it’s the way that my tongue sways
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8. |
PJ Tucker
03:44
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So raise a glass of wine made from the grapes of wrath
Where razorbacks and primates in the cages clash
Fermented vengeance their engine, letting the rage adapt
Primal imagery predating scraps on Betamax
You wandered into my lair, it’s time to pay the tax
I’m running straight up the gut, man, you played the pass
Deflating egos, lay them flat on their face, collapsed
Hit the gas station for a tall white tee, wave it fast
Already too self-medicated to feel pain
So i’ll lock your dealer up inside some steel chains
I’m tearing out my tongue before it’s tasting defeat
Adjacent fact, biting leaves you busy chasing your teeth
Plus i’ve got the dopest logo, I’m engraving it deep
Corrupting data files akin to any papal decree
Rhythm’s turning dissing rappers into aparations, listen
Holograms at Bonoroo, the only one your mama knew
From sea
To shining
See, I’m climbing
Re-defining
My
Tech
Nique of rhyming
You can keep the diamonds
Along with beach and islands
The insincere better seek asylum
Acknowledge the freshest who sets it unapologetically
You better call the medic, preventive for not surrendering
I’m PJ Tucker, coming with the flavor that you’re keeping up with
Speaking rubbish, leap above it corner 3s and Ds the summit
My speech is crunching flummoxing at least a hundred dumming
Find them under the thumb of one with abundance leaving them running
The beat, it is stunning, in the deepest summers, no leasing Hummers
Stopping half-steppers and past efforts, I rap better
Trash reppers better adapt, my laughter venomous sending them back shredded
Time travel, edit the track
This cats are important as Eric B minus the R
Leaving them deep in the throes of heresy, trying to spar
I’ll arrive in car that’d make Mixalot blush
Not with put upon the glass, but for all the rust
Paint chipping away the hooptie brakes squealing something fierce
And I’m still doper regardless of the way that I appear
My regimen besting the verse you’re writing cursive violence
Heard you might’ve been sliding inside the church and hearse that i’m driving
Sankofa’s ghostriding, explosively close to the curb, and it’s rubbing
black smudged white walls sermon is summoned
Disturbances got you searching for something wandering the earth with pair of rusty nunchucks
From sundown to sun up
amazed by the recipients of dumb luck
Specifically the ones tucked in the pockets of puppeteers, who spun rust with numb lust
So one what? Microphone is all that is needed?
Smack them with their own hands, now they're Dumbstruck, Jeebus
Have their skin crawling back to the test tubes that it came from
No rescue from the mayhem I provided from day one
Let cats sleep, my preposterous output speaks for itself
No PR release for insipid gibberish yelped
Nah, I speak clearly so we don’t need the translator
Got Konfewshus over here, putting a cross on the fader
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9. |
Rebar Bones
03:56
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Look, I know it’s kind of weird, but man forget a flight of beers
I want a jumbo jet with different pop to sip, recline, and cheer
I’m the button masher, mixing every flavor possible
King of fountain drinks, your approval’s not an obstacle
See, I figured that I drink it, my opinion matters here
Climbing carbonated ladders up into the stratosphere
So Dew comes with a new one and who runs to pursue some?
The gift of yummy parts of gummi sharks, plus a blue tongue
Cut a Q-tip in half and put a piece in each ear
Let it dangle just a bit, would you consider it weird
I got air pods that didn’t even cost me a buck
And if your posse’s not on Wall Street, then they’re probably stuck
Shout to George Tom & Robin, 7 days in Santa Cruz
So many years have gone by, yet the faster it moves
And I’ve got still got the photos that we took in that booth
And maybe one day, we’ll rerelease that album anew
walking down your block in a pair of stained blue suede shoes
No pay stubs required, I paid dues
Take truth divided, tonight it remains true
how many day ones are going to make it to day two
The latter day saints who ain’t half that contaminate
The gamma ray recipient sitting within a bath of rage
Examined states different stakes raised a little smidge
Ice sculptures, AKs, parade days, we visited
8 days a prisoner, smoke breaks habitual
Good for the soul, yet broke planes of physical
Don’t change medicinal dose weighed on triple beams
Arthritic fingers that crocheted the crippled scene
Behind a set of worn curtains with a tinge of green
Always the observer ever since a winsome teen
Taking notes closely never would she intervene
Sweeping up the scraps of foam cups with a hint of lean
Her name was Imogene growing up in the same spot
A corner mechanic, an empty payphone box
Grocery replaced by a Dollar General
Neighbors with a big screen in a broken home, it’s all rental
I’m Son Doobie bumping Illmatic, eating some Pop Tarts
Wash it all down with flavored BANGs and some Rock Stars
Crass and loving language visual the buzz is banging strong
Thought that maybe it could be so simple, I wasn’t wrong
Come along trace the circumference of my wonderment
Alias my radius Wonder twin mumbles summoning
Another roly poly coming in for a pummeling
No rebuttal what a subtle binge, bottle guzzling
Sitting on the wall, 99 of them in all,
tonight they’re finna fall
So don’t begin to call,
Before you know it, find your chin within a squall, your boring opus
Is sort of hopeless, a rapping Maury Povich
Furthermore we noted, you’re a purgatory chosen
Elope with wack beats to some deserted island, with the shurikens flying
For sure you’re frying, sizzling upon a burnt horizon
So listen to this interpret nicest murderizing
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10. |
Blood of the Eagle's Eye
03:01
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If I add up all the pieces, will it ever amount to anything?
Or am I trying my best to fly with dialect of shredded wings?
I bled the king until the palace floor became a slip and slide
All the diamonds turned to rubies soon as I could dip inside
Piling all my riches high the soulless gold standard born
A crown overrun with rust abandoned in a land of scorn
My side adorned with circular thorns, my cup runneth over here
Just me by my lonesome, so fear that there is no one near
Stones, the tears cascading don’t go chasing tails again
Broken in the trenches, victim to another failed ascent
Pick up all the pieces, sticks and stones, comb the mess of wreckage
Less aggressive with each subsequent attempt, vex the message
It’s mathematics with savage laughter added for bitterness
No matter the method I can never get rid of it
My shadow puppet with strings woven into nooses of bad luck
Holding diseased carrots at the end of an olive branch, they can’t touch
Just, out of reach, mirage beckoning with a night’s sleep
Chubby fingers playing chess with my checkers plunging the knife deep
When I breathe, the sheep flee, preferring dinner plates to my fences
And in the meantime, my thoughts sharpen and pace with a vengeance
And the footprints run deep enough to draw blood
Almost being close enough but never there is lost love
Awestruck with a gauntlet I never should have dropped in the first place
Don’t know if I’m cursed, but when it fell, I swear I felt the earth quake
I see a nurse pace just out of my line of focus
Or is it a wraith of one I used to hold closest? I don’t know this
It approaches and i shudder with an involuntary twitch
nine prayers won’t make up for that one skipped stitch
If this is a game being played, please guide me to the reset
These are the reasons nuns cease to be and the priests wept
Each step is closer to something, but the ground is moving backwards
Stumbling with each hobbled leap, my energy fades in factors
This is my brain on no drugs, going strange to scare the passersby
Plus I don’t like the way the mirror looks whenever it captures light
Crashing tides bury my feet, the undertow beckons
In times of uncertainty, being alive feels like a close second
My inner child is orbiting orphanages, somewhere in Georgia it is
Thinking thoughts were simpler back when I was somewhat more religious
I was raised to raise my voice and question to seek the reason why
I don't need to believe that I will be here after I have died
There’s a certain reassurance that comes with being infinite
We can agree to disagree and keep it moving minus incident
No wince afflicts this countenance drowning within quicksands of hourglasses
Cowering in a coward’s massive bitter bath of sour has beens
A cloud attached containing memories we hold at the end of kite strings
Something to tug at the heart whenever the darker parts of life sting
The icing on a cake I might sing a song we’d rather keep away
Reverberating with an echo of fear sunken inside of a deeper place
Rumbling by, the reaper keeps the scythe handy
A telescopic handle stretches far beyond the bystanding
So who am I to tell you this is life and how to do it right
We are ruined by the measures, edges are unsupervised
True to human sized glimpse the world through these polluted eyes
And find your place if and when that brittle little troop arrives
Who am I to tell you this is life and how to do it right
We are ruined by the measures, edges are unsupervised
Who am I to tell you this is life and how to do it right
We are ruined by the measures, edges are unsupervised
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Sankofa Fort Wayne
My rhymes kick in like a turbobooster.
Fort Wayne.
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