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1. |
!@#! (Cursed)
03:27
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Words lose their power with significant use
so I reduced the times that the worst was loosed
I recall being a kid and hearing a grown up swear
meant something important had just happened right there
but nowadays, it's common as a pair of Jordans
used to be “wow”, now it's loud with boredom
Dick Cheney even gave the words a spin
and nobody out there is as pure as him
Samuel L. Jackson's career is such
that his vocab we can't hear near enough
motherfucker rolls off the tongue so nicely
plus it's great filler in the throes of a dry heave
don't have something to say? Say that.
Pose like a tough guy with a Maybach.
See, I treat the words like a nuclear option.
Except I use them more often
Are they verbs, nouns, adjectives or adverbs
or syllabic filler for another rap verse?
Call it MC Ren, the later years, with hot dogs.
Something for the gobsmacked speaker when thought stops.
Unless you're George Carlin, managing the Marlins
or Louis C.K., you're just rambling for stardom.
See, it's fun for me to get creative and make
new ways to signify that I'm going to break
but even I say “damn” like it's Hoover here
and you can keep that thought for your souvenir
remember facelift? Not a single curse
but I scorched the remains of that target's earth
there's a time and place, but so many are lazy
could it be they have a broken watch? Maybe
Thinking every moment is a suitable spot
to let fly with that same old usual slop
If respect is sought, you'd best stretch the vocab
get a yoga class for your rote notepads.
Instead of dope jabs, the sweetest science
One hit wonders try to seem defiant.
Haymakers get thrown by naysayers
just to try and savor their own word's flavor.
My dad gave me a bar of soap to chew once
think the taste stayed in my mouth a few months
Speech bubbles came with a crisp and clean spell
cause I called my mom a name that I won't retell
at 16, those words made me tough
and with NWA, I then gave a fuck
but that kid became a man with a lazy crutch
so I went cold turkey and evaded such
now I use moderation, just like Satchel
Paige recommended, entertainment is tactile
My goal is to think before the words appear
but sometimes I don't quite persevere
See, my goal is to think before the words appear
but sometimes I don't quite persevere
guns, sex, drugs, money
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2. |
Chasing Ghosts
03:35
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This is a song called Chasing Ghosts
To all the kicks I dig, I now raise the toast
Not raisin toast, but the butter is there
I’ve got food for my sole when the cupboard is bare
See, with shoes man…I’ve got a scary closeness
And this here pair I call my Terry Grosses
Fresh Air on the tip of the tongue with a white swoosh
Chance, anything slicker than these, it’s minute
Strap loose on the left like a ram’s horns
When I’m stepping on your beaches it’s a San storm
Right strap crossed over in a b-boy stance
Calling for the velcro with each poised hand
But, nah-I just let them sit the way that they are
But without the will to walk, I’m not making it far
I once rocked Asics, left the rest to Ryu
Tiger uppercut, sucker duck when I glide through
Houston, I’ve got a problem called shoes
You’ve been aware of what I’m going to do
Get another pair, then I get another pair
Then I get another pair right there, oh yeah
I’m going crazy, I’m a gym shoe freak, plus
I haven’t bought a pair, and it’s been two weeks, look
I’m going crazy, I’m a gym shoe freak
I haven’t bought a pair, it’s been two weeks
See, my moves are mostly via bike or the sidewalk
Something to let my mind just roam with a rime thought
The feeling of fresh, none other compare
Even got your mother with a stutter and stare
When I was a kid, we only had a car for two years
Blue Ford Falcon with the sweet ass hubcaps
Helping dad wash it on the weekend, I loved that
I got his beard but I didn’t get his mustache
Beggars can’t be choosers, I suppose
Shoeboxes in my closet start to climb in droves
I mean, I’ve got the leaning tower of Pisa with cardboard
Jenga boxing, you’d better call it an art form
I know it’s silly but I just can’t stop, plus
I’m happy whether you like them or not, because
It brings me joy to find a pair I forgot about
New shoe smell, I brought them out
My wife found a pair she loved, I bought them out
Call it my extravagance, budgeted and thought up how
I’ve got a job and it isn’t like I’m not allowed
To spend as I see fit, this is America
You’re rocking rims, I’m making shoebox forts
While the ghost of Biggie’s eating Tupac’s s’mores
This isn’t a contest of who’s got more, you getting this?
Jake at Studio 13 is the medalist
Then again, it isn’t a competition, it’s a celebration
Raising a toast to dope kicks around the nation
Honestly, I bought a shirt because it matched a pair
My crayon specials now mesh with extra flair
Yes and there’s the yin and the yang, am I a metro?
I can’t criticize others so I let go
It isn’t easy cause I’m programmed to break it down
I’m older and care less, I’m not braver now
Bought a pair of Ewings in DC for ninety plus
Idolized the guy, not going to lie, they kind of sucked
Like Kemp’s Kamikazes, my beard’s got stripes
Peace to Mark Jackson and his teardrop drives
I’m leaving shoeprints in the sands of time
Just to glimpse that tread from these shoes of mine
Bottom line, if it makes you happy, then just roll with it
My favorite hoodie is adidas with some holes in it
And I’ll never rock Jordans
Ever.
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3. |
Boogieman
02:26
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I’m a world beater, fueling up his spaceship full of ruin
Tired of sitting around hoping things get done if I don’t do them
Pursuant to the semi-luminous glow the pen develops
I take traditional word collections then I bend with relish
So pardon the pawn, the pun and all the other transgressors
Maybe even your blue haired Aunt Esther
Forget Jesus, she’s got a fetus on a chain
And a slogan to shout, but you’ve got to love her all the same
Life’s too full to let a difference turn to downfall
Even if it’s easy to divide inside of town halls
She’s by her stove making recipes in hopes you’ll visit
Sitting sadly by the window with her woeful visage
Cause most who listened were her friends who went and passed away
never once did she think that she’d be the last to stay
Her lair’s lined with the Hummel figurines
Used to call the Franklin Mint, but now she’s onto bigger dreams
I go to RediMed with a heavy head
Yeah, I’ll wait a while. What the hell, I’m already dead
Man, I’ve got to get a job with some proper benefits
Cause when I’m sick, being broke is my nemesis
The ends justify the means
But there’s a cliffhanger hanging on the TV screen
So I sit in purgatory’s waiting room reading magazines
Trying not to smell the puking kid heaving Dramamine
Nobody looks around, they’re suffering alone
Baby cries while her nervous mother mutters in the phone.
My insurance plan has got a credit limit, what about yours?
They give you discounts when you pay up front for loud sores
I charge it to Discover, hope to find the money later
I abstain from playing hoops and other dumb behavior
Can’t afford an injury cause sprained ankles hinder me
From doing my job, a broken cog in this industry
I guess the point that I’m trying to make
Is you can think that you’re safe, that you might escape
I guess the point that I’m trying to make
Is you can think that you’re safe, that you might escape
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4. |
Friend of Mine
03:12
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She’s a skittish little miss and her meds are but a memory
Sad when body chemistry turns into the enemy
now requests roll off proverbial duck's backs
shiny manic eyes the measure...two little hub cups
gleaming and I must ask, why the change now
father figure forgone furrowed a strange brow
a new plan laid out seemingly in much haste
about the same time that guy left in dust, raced
a touch traced out of finger painting run amok
taking most of the day's patience that I can summon up
I wonder what brought about the note from home
so I track behavior, watching close the crone
how far do acorns fall when nobody will listen
cheeks ruddy and glisten with sweat lovely and schismed
and yet, it's not my place so her descent's documented
a once caring child now lost with a vengeance
And it’s sad, cause I try to do all that I can
But I can’t do a thing when she’s gone out of class
And it’s sad, cause I try to do all that I can
But I can’t do a thing when she’s gone out of class
A friend of mine’s gone away and she might not be back
So leave a message at the beep and believe that
She might get it, but you never can tell
So just hope for the best
tossed to a sentence speakers babble oblivious
hugs turn from love to the tactile insidious
so fragile the lineage, synapses misfire
screaming on repeat, her song from a sick choir
I miss that girl whose calm came from pill bottles
maybe one day those storms could fill novels
until then, it's dealing with her outbursts
asked to sit up, yet knowing that she'll slouch first
I'm hoping that the clouds quickly turn to mist and dissipate
but in the meantime, I pen this and wait
Cause dis and may makes for an interesting cocktail
but a kid's future is at stake, I cannot fail
walking down a lost trail with broken legs
behavior plan carrot rotted, hope and beg
tie the note to dregs...believe it'll improve
running for the shelter amidst a riddle bemused
a little bit of the blues with the Jackson Pollack extras
keeping eyes peeled at the door for her exits
next is patience, combined with faith
there’s not much to do but spend the time and wait
next is patience, combined with faith
there’s not much to do but spend the time and wait
a friend of mine's gone away
and she might not be back
so leave a message at the beep and believe that
she might get it but you never can tell
so just hope for the best
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5. |
Too Many Days
03:55
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It’s the homeless man, short shirt baring his midriff
Rolling on a girl’s bike like what’s the difference?
Another night at the shelter sober or a bridge drunk
Thinking troll thoughts, cold frost rolls up
The warmth of Boones might hold enough to call sleep
But until then, swill zen and roll streets
Stopovers at the Rock, dollar shot signs beckon
Leather skin regulars slumber what a nice weapon
High stepping sleepwalkers slump to the DJ
60 year old wives flash racks for replays
Husbands yell why aren’t you looking at her eyes
Like she’s not good enough for you, you wanna fight?
Then the next shot’s slammed to the bar worn smooth
A smudged glass emptied in a war more lose
Dead soldiers line battlefields by the brigades
Down the hatches and a lively night is away
At the bottom of the bottle is an answer in another language
If I drink enough then I might understand it
Give it a shot cause what good is a quitter anyways
Been sitting here for ages, maybe many days
Some eyes might not have seen the light of the day
They’re stumbling home late nights, but the sign it remains
Alleyway gravel mixed with drink eager to escape
Mix the wrong blends yep, it’s leaving a trace
Repeating the taste with a splash of stomach acid thrown in
Burning hearts churning in chests a no win
And what’s on tap is taps for livers, a splash of bitter
interacts wracking givers barely interact with shivers
sitting by guys hacking cough splitting sides what they did imbibe
a roll of ones dwindling by the minute’s site
Pulling tabs to pass impassive time hope minimized
Oh, didn’t buy dinner it’s in a knife that’s slitting dimes,
Hit them high
Buzz creeps in and hits them lower, time for the broken seals
No club hits, just rosary gropes and taxi pope mobiles
So surreal, social soak Chernobyl field of broken dreams
Scenes for chameleons sipping rum and Ovaltine
Spots are claimed, turf is marked, welcome wagon wheel cracked
Oregon Trail plague swept through and left the field black
Unless you’re speaking Harley Oil, nobody’s going to feel that
More than a little rust has stuck on hinges of that steel trap
Pool table moved back, room for tonight’s band
Stumblinas leaving finger prints on the mic stand
an uninhibited sprawl tin signs litter the walls
Been fine, sipping a tall glass…mind your own business
Unless you’re buying a round then it is fine
A tenement mind agenda of denim and blood, umm mine? 20 percent of it wine
Fed up with crime, less of a line and more of a gun that is drawn
And any night here with open eyes could be the solemn son of a song
With one of us gone, one will remain and drink in tribute
Sinking quick through walls ‘til every patron is a family member-clinking his brew
I think it is due, a toast to friends with forgotten names
So here’s to all of you.
At the bottom of the bottle is an answer in another language
If I drink enough then I might understand it
Give it a shot cause what good’s a quitter anyways
Been sitting here for ages, way too many days
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6. |
Seeing is Believing
03:26
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Who predicts, from the uterus to the crucifix
Upon whom the sweat of Judas drips
The way she moved her hips beckoned glory
Second story lips do Luca splits
In pursuit of glitz, she wooed with tits and nudist strips
A happy youth a myth, demons do some hits, she used a fix
Smoke in the hookah drifts, pollution slips through her lips
Attuned to bliss falsely, never did assume the risk
Junkie boyfriend, the true roughneck with a noose affixed
From dreams, to one bus trips, she’s losing it
Hourly rates instead of dates, aches and wooziness
Making palm pay hands lithe type Vesuvius
Photo shoots quick switch to flicks with the boots and whips,
slit wrists, light headed, red is oozing slick
Pimp was a pugilist, she never used to lisp
Concealer for the blackened eye, attacking guy bruised her lip
Who’d admit that this is a life that one would choose to live
Seeing is believing, many choose to be blind
I miss the days of rap tapes when you had to rewind
Now everyone’s nose deep in some senseless junk
Apathy’s a lazy king who went and rented a shrug
I knew a crack fiend by the name of Maxine
Riding in a taxi, looking for the vaccine
Her jaw, taut, eyes pitted with a slack gleam
The last avenue of hope, already tapped clean
Used the outside outlet to get power
Outside faucet to get her to the next shower
Didn’t have a phone so she used to do things
Just to make a call, it became the routine
2 year old son walking into nude scenes
All tied in with a muted and crude theme
Her boyfriend, a bouncer at bikini bars
Shaved head, leather jacket and a greedy heart
White tank top complete with sleazy sneer
That said meet me here, you’d better feed me fear
Indeed it is sick, but she was a neighbor of mine
And when her knees hit the carpet, she had made up her mind
A hopeful groupie thinking that she knew the risk
To get by, her clientele fell from dress shoes to kicks
Sharpened high heels clicking to the Supra quick
A deluded illusionist, dropped within a rude abyss
Paying dues to sis because she knew some tips
Anchor to home and lutefisk, now dead in a lagoon of this
A natural disaster infected after she blew a kiss
Too many monsters in the shadows, numerous
Used to have a soul, so they say, that’s the rumor kid
breakfast comes from a pipe instead of muselix
Any line on a mirror nearby, she’ll Hoover it
Faces are blurred, lights shine through the mist
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7. |
Big Top
03:10
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Just to clear the troublesome confusion away
If your style’s dope, I’m pharmaceutical grade
Giving musical bruises to muses you should obey
I don’t care about your past, what are you doing today?
It’s unusual. Assaults result in crucial decay
If you’ve yet to hear about it then it’s soon to amaze
I’m setting them all afire with a beautiful blaze
A frugal brigade is packed in find a suitable grave
I’m busting up ears with irrefutable ways
The last cat who tried to use his brutal noodle was dazed
Taking a rocky road and then I smooth the terrain
Abusing frames followed by a removal of brains
And that’s just for starters, never mind the bench players
Or the coach, general manager, owner and all the temp waiters
My prerogative to throttle with the livest homonyms
I’m anonymous and kind of ominous, saliva slobbering
Slicing mic tykes to teeny lumps in lava lamps
Itemized lives, needy punk copping grams
Lancing livers of river dancing idiots
Hands’ meridian, canceling tramps with wittiness
Plan to expand the oblivion in cyclones
Let the echoes die down in the ground with the dry bones
…and that’s what I’ve known
Welcome to the big top, ringer leader included
Lions and tigers arrive to the music
Get your hot dogs and popcorn a hot storm
Far from your local mom and pop store, we got more
Viacom has violated pacts, I try to stay the path
Gearing up for battle with a rime array that’s vast
I’ve debated cats and nothing came of it but lost breath
The name of hip-hop debt that cost caustic reps
So tossed off the decks goes the replaying DJ
Giving you that three day cliche
Sad when Mitsubushi is the one breaking new music
Small wonder my enthusiasm died, spin in a blues lick
A trail of poisoned breadcrumbs lining newbie eardrums
How are kids going to track rap back to fierce tongues?
It’s going to be hard if they don’t hear some in the mix
But there’s only one Little Brother Radio, that’s it
And it’s not just a case relating simply to rap
It’s all musical genres gone and gimmickry packed
Stations paying fees to download and play the same streams
I’m glad I had YO! Back in the day to help me paint dreams
But what’s on the screen now is vapid volunteers
Eyeliner bangs of sorrow serenading solemn ears
The movement against becomes the latest to franchise
Co-opted for a sponsorship, plotting to plant vibes
Hands tied hand over the fist for momentary riches
A Doberman decision’s hidden, so they vary visits
With various images
Welcome to the big top, ringer leader included
Lions and tigers arrive to the music
Get your hot dogs and popcorn a hot storm
Far from your local mom and pop store, we got more
Much, much…much…more
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8. |
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No fork in my grip, I’m holding a plow at the Golden Corral.
Shovel that food in quick like POW!
You see, my briefcase is cardboard, consider it an art form
Par for the course of 30 sliders, set to starve more
I march forth in battle killing ravenousness
With each little box unwrapped, I’m smacking my lips
I want to catch a case of the vapors grease and the steam rising
No White Castle in the Fort? See, that’s a dream dying
Stephen is defiant insistent persistent and wishing
Protesting this wicked flavor prohibition
Shut your lips if you’re saying you’re above it all
You’ll be eating all your meals with a sucking straw
Find me at Powers burgers with the oniony scent
Saigon type cash only, money is spent
And what do you get? Mmm, Delectable deliciousness
Even those feeling bitterness will straight admit it is
Spinners on my car? You can keep those trends
I want a spinner in my kitchen with the gyro blend
Oh no, I’ve got a jumbo jet of flavor
Instead of fuel I’ve got the goodness that you savor
Ain’t another cat delivering it greater
Bravas got a new food truck and it’s major
It’s the Z I double F L E to the S
I’m feeling like a T-Rex, my teeth deep in this mess
The finest of ribs, like Adam with a pining for his
Dr. Pepper carbonation is providing the fizz
The known classic, leaving carnage in a bone basket
I’m talking cartilege and, yep the most graphic
My cologne savage, smell the barbeque sauce
This is man up turf, no art martyred Zubaz
So pardon my jaw, but the combo basket just arrived
I’m going whisper sweet nothings, loving’s justified
Good luck to any place trying to be as fly as Ziffles
Why quibble, we can split a plate of fried pickles
Shout to John and Courtney for showing me the way
I’ve ingested dreck at places supposed to be as great
But their plates lack the taste of the gracious greatness
Enough with the debate just bow down and taste it
Asakusa’s White Lightning roll is exquisite
Enough to make the inquisitive go pay it a visit
Rest in peace to True Friend tea house on Calhoun
Club Soda, where the Piere’s crowd goes to pasture
King Gyro’s with the finest fries in the Fort
Finding an extra fry in the bag is some kind of a sport
The Wells Street Klemms, a plate of garbage and rye
J Crew O’Donnells has the dopest spoons you could find
Munchies-the slowest service this side of Henry’s
But Hanks has the nachos, true sight to envy
Each walk away is heaven, heavier on the pavement
With extra Tony Little Gazelle sessions in my basement
My payment is perspiration, certainly worth it
Peace to the Firefly’s awesome flavored smoothie worship
For making my intestines spell heaven in cursive
Can’t forget the lemon cookies
food loving, got to get it day and night now
True buggin, I’ve been known to eat with lights out
No fork in my grip
I’m holding a plow at the Golden Corral
Shovel that food in quick like POW!
I’ve got to get it…NOW!
Complete with a Dr. Pepper soda fountain, so astounding
food loving, that’s what it’s all about right here
A few dozen snobs, well they might jeer
with a slight sneer but my palate is valid
800 degrees of pizza, garlic bread and great salads
Sending me
announcement
Cup of ‘slaw, used to have it instead of the fries
Just to cut down on the sodium, but then I got wise
Giving a dose of
And that’s what it’s going to cost
Goodness gracious,
I put someone through college, going to Ziffles
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9. |
Skin Suit
03:18
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Connect the mic to rectify electrolyte levels flooded
Delivering more than a smidgeon of gore, unsettled stomachs
So bet the under, wondering if the punishment fits right
If I had a good day, I must have missed mine
This line bleeds in the next, vets hit the decks fast
Countenance is granite, scouring the next staff
Lead us against those, the dense who trespass
Regiments are left lax, cowardice with less laughs
Leaping epitaphs when temperatures spike
Imaginary battlefields, bend them with hype
Look inside of these veins, witness the venom inside
Discipline, dead in the eyes, friction mesmerizing, let’s remind them
Unfettered writing, writhing in a pit of snakes colliding
Destabilizing paper’s molecules with fatal rhyming
We take our time to make the impossible an afterthought
Laughing at the marching on to Babylon facile flock
Screaming at the top of a collapsed lung, the track stung
Type to climb up the ladder, quitting on the last rung
Blast furnace shaking, wading through the black skirmish, blazing
Leave it open, leaking, crimson war interpretation
So terse a statement, preserving work with a curt amazement
Eternal agent of change, aiming to burst the nascent
Impersonating a person, making a difference if it pays
Trying on a skin suit with all its wicked ways
Entire lives distilled to the form of a tear
Forming a formative morgue forged with an in inordinate fear
Performing a force ornament for the corpse of the year
Trying to hold back the sense, the more it appears
Engorged on the gorgeous and weird, sorcerers jeer
An assortment of torque tore through remorse and I’m here
And I’m not leaving anytime soon
Even for cowboys waiting twenty high noons
Many might bruise, send me nice notes of quotes, improve
You’re best not soak the shoes
they’re done traveling, stick a fork in the road
A malapropism caltrop made in Morse code
North pole living, snowmobiles with machine guns
So hold the mobile shield whenever the spleens run
Reap suns from the cannibalized skies
Memoirs of rap, just examining nine lives
Tonight the mic’s sequestered deep inside of a dire effort
Pariah tempers stepping away from the scene deny forever
The knife is wetter, wedded with matrimonial bliss
To a figure that’s framed in red, regret that loneliness lives
And so he assists, in a manner the mic Kevorkian,
Planning a night, the sharp blades on the jet black Sikorsky spin
Memorial binges furthermore he avenges senseless ruination
Walking the back alleys to illuminate them
Moves are made in quiet, the mind of a miserly master plots
Fascinating the afterlifers half deciphered slash the boss
Tap the tops, then twist them counterclockwise and stop
Cause you don’t understand, you’re going to drop
Blitzes spit with ricochets, days melt to haziness
Slaying his 80th, maybe even just evading it
Babies breathing inhalants in deformed amniotic sacs sleep
Candy clotted crack, man he’s got his stats, weep
His laugh, weak, taken from a target marked in star maps
Sharks swimming their laps in melted tarmac
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10. |
21 Choices
03:21
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The life of a loner in Isotoners
Slicing like a knife through the icy coldness
Shoe to the pedal, thine eyes behold this
Two wheels gliding, that’ll settle and roll swift
Rock Shox bopping to the cracked and old strip
Hop scotch boxes pass by ghost quick
Not to brag as though this is mackadocious
It’s just how I roll, focused
No need for spandex, oakleys and toe clips
Just a pair of cargo shorts and some old kicks
Maybe a book bag to carry my foodstuffs
Plus a clean shirt when my sweat, it is too much
Calling Jason Roberts when it’s time for a tune up
Swear I could ride from here to Montezuma
I disagree that only kids can ever go and choose fun
Throat gets dry so I chew gum
Chill for a while on my way, then I zoom some
Cutting corners through parking lots, on a new run
Figure that I’ll change the route every now and then
Nothing like freedom’s taste with a power blend
No more fumbling, finding my keyfob
Plus by the time my windshield is defogged
I’d already be at work with time to spare
So complain about gas like I’m trying to care
If you’re seeking sympathy, you won’t find it in me
My bad, I’m just gliding the streets
Enjoying the air, the scenery, and the rhythm of it
Plus racing cars across the street when I am finna rush it
I got a bike from my dad, it was a ten speed
Now I’ve got 21 choices, seeing Humvees
Guzzling gas so I’m zooming past them
Backed up traffic paying dues to fashion
Forget it man, I’m moving at my own speed
Goretex Nikes so I’m never catching cold feet
They’ll catch up, revving engines like a sort of threat
But they’re locked in a box, metal portalet
Some drivers roll down their windows and shout
Just to get a rise, but I’m winning the bout
Just in case you wonder what I’m grinning about
I’m happy being a kid…
Carmex on my lips so they don’t get chapped
Buckling my helmet and tightening straps
Chuckling at drivers trying to pass
With violent pizzaz, thinking that this time is the last
I’m playing Frogger navigating diamonds of glass
Trying to steer clear here, ‘lest I’m riding a flat
Cause I can walk a bike, so much cheaper than a tow truck
I’m not going to lie and say that it won’t suck
But can a broken down car fit in a trunk?
And get fixed without paying one ridiculous sum
See, my bike cost less than a car repair
More money for shoes, Ziffles, & art to spare
So there.
There’s something quite dope ‘bout the nice, slow
Spinning of a bike spoke like so, cycle maestro.
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11. |
Rift
02:35
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I tend not to speak in these ways, but these times are designed
To remind me how blinded I made me.
I get cold chills, making monsters out of molehills
Maybe if I’m lucky, one day, they’ll grow gills
Then they could help me swim through this mess
That I made by trying to avoid this stress
I mean, it’s simple enough, but I’d rather let it die, yep
All the better for my mind to dissect
Keep myself company with all that is undone
A klutz’s guilt trip perpetual humdrum
Put the replay up on jumbotrons
title it the life of a chump goes on
And what I did wrong? Namely avoidance
Letting it all slip away, making a poison
Trying to commit instead I’m sliding in the mist
And that outstretched palm has since tightened to a fist
With a violence that could split even the strongest of bonds
So my punishment is eulogy, form of a song
Rip the stitches out, let the salt cascade
Filling up overripe red with a glass blade
Somehow the pain will make for an apology
Or at least an excuse to lose it all and weep
I’ve got holes, been filling them and yet they stay empty
Playing the break and entry plus the sentry
Confused, no matter which way I move, I lose
the paragon of zen when it’s time to choose
Let it be this or that, banish the gray
Cause I’m sick of playing outcomes, imagined away
Vanished today, tomorrow beckons with the same script
And the chump writing about it, that’s the lame twist
Busy playing chicken or egg while the farm dies
A self-fulfilling prophecy of self-inflicted hard times
Mark my words cause that’s all that I am now
And nothing ever worked quite the way I planned out
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12. |
Imaginary Man
03:38
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This, the story of a man who wasn’t really there
But for the few folk who took the time to spare
Not so many witnessed as time moved on
All okays corralled and the high noons gone
Cowboy drifts with his tumbleweeds
Spurs stumbling forth with a tongue that bleeds
Yet some proceed to call it a bunch of B
With an S at the end for a stunted creed
Saloon doors creak and his gun is rusted
Where rust stays creeping with a hundred judgements
Bullet in the chamber, saved for the last shot
Funds running dry and a plague hit the cash crop
Scarecrow went and left for greener pastures
All that’s left is a brittle stick, bleak and fractured
Vultures stay spinning those same old yarns
Like remember back when, when times were charmed
Back then anyone down was a black sheep
Land of the snow where the prose took a back seat
Examining the reach of each famine and its feast here
Feels like every other week is a leap year
Lose another day, bruise in a subtle way
Elusive and truth is the proof in a puddle, gray
Puke has a stench that can serve reminders
From pursuits of a golden night left behind them
Yesterday is a time that could have been redone
With a little change here, a picture getting re hung
Portrait of a Dorian Grey, replay and become
Dying in a glorious blaze, survey a tree trunk
Having given all to an aged soul
Because life’s a lost cause for those who crave control
Basically, the goal is hold on tight and let the ride start
Poison blood running to the arteries from my heart
I’m getting old in my old age
What was once life now fades away
Centerpiece dreams always end up as the sidebar
A grudge is the only thing that ever seems to die hard
Memories that haunt and motivate the calm to blind rage
Then lady justice tries with a like gauge
Lion in the spring, should have died in wintertime
Mane’s growing mange and a slowness is intertwined
Wincing as limbs try to do what they once did
Joy to a job as a clock getting punched in
One spin too many around the block
Wringing hands in a trance, reddened, down and lost
and when he found the cost, it seems he couldn’t afford it
buying the farm, then went and put in a mortgage
cooking up a crooked assortment for one soul
And the rest of his tale is simply untold
cooking up a crooked assortment for one soul
And the rest of the tale is simply untold
I’m getting old in my old age
What was once lithe now turns to gray
I’m getting old in my old age
What was once life now fades away
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13. |
Cliff Notes
03:20
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I got a brand new jumpsuit, where’d you’d get yours from?
Never get it second hand, cause the blood sure runs
Stomach acid comes back and it’s leaving sore gums
But it’s worthwhile, I’ve been planning this four months
Fan of the planning and plotting, I’ve got my own plot
Work’s worthwhile smile at people cause they know not
Whistle while I work and everybody wants my dope job
Nobody has a clue, so it is no prob
They can have it when I’m gone but now it is mine
Twice as bright, half as short the power to climb
Lunch break comes around, I’m asked to join in
The life of the party, imparting hardiest poison
Captain Popular in his purdy paper crown
Maybelline queens in a stream lay around
Feet dangle from a pedestal, will I make it down?
Give me a big red brush so I can paint this town
I’ve got to move, I’ve got to go
I’ve got to push, You ought to know
I’ve got to move, man, I’ve got to go show
I’ve got to push you, You ought to know so
I’ve got to move, I’ve got to go
I’ve got to push, You ought to know
I’ve got something brand new man, what do you think?
I’ve got a suit and, no, it’s not mink.
I’m ready to go and splash the sink
Taking it all the way, way past your brink
It’ll be over in a second so you’d better not blink
Shame on you if you think I won’t drink
I’ll fall down, slow motion type diving
Just me by my lonesome, watch me dying
No longer content to stick around any more
Told war stories, heard plenty scores
You can keep all your guts and glory
Sitting around, watching lives unraveling on Maury
Cause every story’s end is all the same
And this is something that you call a game
I’m appalled and ashamed to have been party to it
Feeling lightheaded, visions of a Barbie Judas, far from lucid
Is this something that I want? Vision beginning to blur
Hearing voices from a distance and they’re sounding concerned
From ground to the urn, man I’ve thought of the ways
But now I’m so tired, feeling caught in a haze
A lot of todays turn to memories, turning distant
And my son, man, I wonder if I kissed him
Did I write everything I wanted to say
Or will the incomplete haunt as a wraith?
Bodily aches fading away, my heart rate slowing down
Not enough blood to pump around in my broken mound
Did I leave the door unlocked, can somebody hear me
Or’s my mind playing tricks, I’m leery
Trying to cry out, but there’s no breath to make noise
Flailing with limbs sluggish in my pretty grave poised
Chose my favorite suit just in time to join the rest
Try as I might, death, I can’t quite avoid it yet
I’ve got to move, I’ve got to go
I’ve got to push, I ought to know
I’ve got to move, man, I’ve got to go show
I’ve got to push you, I should have known, so
I’ve got to move, I’ve got to go
I’ve got to push, I should have known
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14. |
Belligerent Beard
03:51
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Chest hair, the latest four letter word
In a land of mannequins, this man is scourge
Handle the fur, basement walls paneled for sure
So duck and cover suckers, it’s the cannibal cur
A menace observed, heads turn in disbelief at light speed
Seeing the beast creeping from my collar and it might be
A nightmare for some, they’re weak in the heart
I can hear the clippers and they’re fiending to start
Believing it’s sharp, unfastening a couple of buttons
Claming they know the way, but their rebuttal is bluffing
sup with the loving? Throw a stach in the mix
Trying to sell me razors it’s all capitalist
Father’s day comes and the TV screen
Is nothing but Norelco and greedy dreams
You can keep your mitts away, stop the madness
Advised by the beardless, wishing they had this
How many blades can they fit in one product?
2 3 4 5 6 sick stop cuts
Then it’s nose and ears opposing the whole beard
I’m out for a walk, staying warm in a cold year
A pound for your thought, penny is farthing
Eating trapped leftovers, many are starving
See, I’ve got a food bank with a gruesome rank
I’m the old school type giving the tooth a plank
What good’s a mouth without a toothpick
That’s like a Left Lane Cruiser song without a blues lick
Saying that I’m better off clean cut, prove it
Making like a man, abandon your movement
Some say I’m rocking a belligerent beard
But that’s not a scene that I’m picturing here
I decide where my chest hair ends and beard begins
In calm sea, I step then appears the fin
best watch for the shark with a guard on his grill
as for the rap, beg your pardon, it’s ill
Let the carbon copy smooth faces speak up or shut yaps
Waynedale Ray rocking a Cubs cap
Do as you please, leave my hair out of your soapbox
there’s no baking soda near my stovetop
I do my thing and you do yours, shut your yap
No poaching the mic when I erupt with raps
They say I’m rough around the edges, what’s with that?
Is it cause I rock a beard when I’m busting cats?
I’ve got a waiter on the way with a tray of food here
Sitting ‘round, biding time waiting for a new beard
Cats wearing funny hats, stumped as a lumberjack
Run for the fun of the act I’m summoned to rap
So here is it again for your disapproval
Virulent with pens and my blitz is brutal
Sit back in your barcolounger and chill
Lest you get your snatched starter cap found in Brazil
Good evening, I’m Stephen your designated sore thumb
EDS he’s the genius with those war drums
Fit the casket he is kicking that grit
any more tough talk-thicken that lip
Give it to me and I’ll return it with some collagen
Determine the diversion & the sermon is abolishment
I laugh in the face of death, give it a nose job
Smash innovate fresh spitting it so raw
Last of the days to test I’m raised to vex
Working for the betterment no praising less
Major flavor flex, sit by and just laugh
Hard of hearing phone sex talkathon mustache
This is the day that the Lord has made
My anger has a heat that can forge the blade
These are my thoughts that adorn the page
I’m just warming up and fools are torn away
Running on the line and the border is clear
Shout out to my man Kash, pouring a beer
the storm of the year, get you nautical gear on
Hypnotic, adhere, fear got a lot it smeared strong
With the help of EDS, I thought up a beard song
Lips moving, eyes empty...I appear gone
Folks speaking the Queen’s English say that he’s a touch daft
Proceeding with a nose bleeding speed, adjust that
little too fast, rhubarb and doodads
Spinning a true yarn for true dads, who knew tats
Find me chilling in blue slacks, villainous as douche ads
Bewildering the wilderness and filling in Purdue stats
Pouring out a concrete garden and it grew grass
got myself a weed whacking steamroller true that
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15. |
Heavenly Father
03:13
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See dad, you gave me the will and determination to drive forth
Maybe I was running from the demons you and I forged
A crucified morgue where the only option was improving
And anything besides progress to your goal was losing
Was it enough? Never. Now a memory of you keeps chasing
Taking everything I ever made and defacing
Replacing the peaceful place inside with self-doubt
So when times of strife arrive, I’m quick to melt down
You made me scared, afraid of punishment, the scowl arrives
Imaginary stories gave birth to alibis
Thing is, all the breaking of rules never even occurred
Maybe the best way to rule is with fear, disturbed
A house where nobody could speak without being corrected
No wonder I still struggle to finish my sentences under pressure
Then again, your criticism made me appreciate the use of language
Even if the rod was spoiled and the noose, it dangled
An elusive angle on the truth, entangled in a past, distant
Checking in on the picayune, every item asked permission
We went camping with your students and you bought me a can of Coke
I felt like a king on the hike while your high schoolers moped
Just you and me, even drove a pickup to the camp site
No mom and brother, just two guys on a unplanned ride
I felt like a son that day instead of a disappointment
I felt like your son that day
These days, I’m as old as you when you first got sick
I’m trying to stay healthy to keep whatever killed you away from me
May I fall far enough away from the tree to cast my own shadow
And if I get sick, please don’t let them take my bone marrow
See, when I don’t hear from someone I love, I just assume they died
Hell, if it happened to you, why not anyone else to arrive
I was in the laundry, heard you cursing and running away
Next thing I knew, there were screams coming from the bedroom that day
It wasn’t the pain, it was the realization you were peeling skin back
Learned to keep pressure cookers closed and applesauce can singe fast
Remember those kids who held lit matches to my face?
You went after them like you were going for gold in that race
Your little brother, my uncle, he says I look just like you
And his son’s a dead ringer for that father that I try to
Live up to, but what’s the point of letting a ghost grow to haunt?
Cause when I talk to your memory, it’s like there’s no response
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16. |
Hey Arthur
05:34
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navy blue adidas tracksuit, now it's too small
cloth diaper godzilla making my shoes fall
adidas, nike, brooks-my son is in town
Now, watch those boxes come tumbling down
you'd better thank your mother for that beautiful nose
and me for a beard that'll take years to grow
See, your life's a growth spurt, the world's your chin up bar
since you entered this world man, you've been a star
waitresses at Ziffles, they know you by name
hey Arthur, you've got them going insane
soon you'll have a teeth and partake in the feast
but you've grown eight since I started writing to this beat
this song needs rewrites with each breath that you take
cause change is constant, an angel from heaven's escaped
this song's reminding me of the one about your granddad
the one you'll never meet, memories of ANZACS
I wish that he could meet you, got me thinking of religion
a hope for something beyond faded photographs and wishing
never figured I'd see Vegemite in diapers
a black tar factory, happily the wipes worked
I'll be your Barcalounger and you can be the sloth
the cutest nap taker needs a stick to beat them off
And when you rest your head against me, it is pure bliss
isn't fatherhood the greatest? Yep. Sure is
No time for playing games, no longer catching sports
I listen to radio when driving you back and forth
wishing Satchmo and Kuselias were still on the air
but you're cooler than them, so why even compare?
see there's no problem, but LeBatard he was a funny dude
now I use my debit card to buy you runny food
and all the gummy goo, I clean it up fast
diaper bag stuffed to the brim with enough to last
must have had infinity changes...call it practice
when we hear your cry, your mom and I are hauling fastest
cause the thought of you in pain tears us apart
thanks to you, your mom and I are sharing a heart
Hey Arthur, the rest of life awaits
Ten times as much stuff at twice the pace
and your mom and I will do the best that we can
but not everything goes according to plan
I remember the first time we heard your tiny hooves stampeding
sitting at the doctor's, my sweaty hands leaking
and now you're here, your head turned into a chubby cube
swear you used to have a neck man, but then you grew
you're my breathing beanbag full of magical beans
that spread contentment over me whenever you're falling asleep
I can feel the impression of your body when you're not around
a perfect puzzle piece fitting, I'm a father now
I've got a photograph of you for every heartbeat
pity the person asking after you, don't start me
I'm chilling with you as much as I can and it's worth it
my tiny furnace furnishing my life with a dose of extra purpose
and this song can only hope to scratch the surface of it
sleeplessness and worrying, you're definitely worth the trouble
our love is immeasurable, we're so proud of you
You melt your mom and dad’s heart every time you sound a coo
your mom talked about genetic traits and pundit squares
we tried to see you early, but you were unaware
too busy doing your own thing with your own plans
freaking your mom out every time you'd kick man
we'd walk through Meijer aisles, stocking up three in the morning
music lesson talks, way before seeing you forming
I dropped you off at your nanna Beth's the other day
and missed you, soon as I was driving away
see, what I'm trying to say is that I love you man
and being away is too much to stand
Man, look, you've got me on the verge of tears
even if it's happiness, it's still sort of weird
I love you
They say time flies
they never warned me at light speed or warp speed
you know, something to thwart me
you've got me feeling joy the same time that I'm mourning
cause you're growing up so fast, I swear I'm going to miss it
You're the one I can give all of my love to and you won't reject it
but soon enough the teenager will hit with walls so effective
for now, I hold your favorite outfit that no longer fits
that was a long time ago, man
me bittersweet, I’m holding you with tears flowing
you staring at me, unblinking with a huge smile, so here's to knowing
my son, named after my dad and your mom's pa
I'm speaking on your middle name and now it's non stop
I don't want to burden with legacy, be your own man
taking whatever path is best for you in this cold land
and when it heats up, may you have enough guts to be tough
with the determination to pull you out of each rut
we'll be there for you regardless of the circumstances
we can only guard you so much from the worsened chances
I'm learning lessons I never figured to a scholar of
and you're the teacher giving lectures, life is all a flux
the whole helplessness pose it’s all a bluff
your superpower's making everyone fall in love
captain adorable armed with formidable charm
doesn't need a bracelet wrapped around his chunky wrist to star
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Sankofa Fort Wayne
My rhymes kick in like a turbobooster.
Fort Wayne.
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