Top secret magic wizarded by Chef Mike both artwork and layout. Feast your eyes upon the magic. Soon as the CDs reach me (and receive their secret ingredient), they'll be on their way to you. Buckle up!
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I’m giving squatting rights to all my insecurities
deep seated, never leaving, it’s a certainty
Springs speaking in upholstery, wallpaper peeling
Sometimes it’s simpler just to suffer than to take the healing
A painted ceiling smudged with fingerprints of hope
Fingers broken failure lingers in the smoke
Nicotine inside the walls, the plaster vibrates
Radiators creaking as the building then denies fate
Each failure is given a name and thus a place to rest
Pacing back and forth, reverberating in this vacant chest
Taking steps, under the gun, but that’s a bayonet
Sharpened by the flint of every glimpse I take in stress
Rats wrestle over scraps, but the bones are bare
Ghosts visit I can tell it by the coldest air
The drafts are creeping with a pack of demons
Past the placid, staying frozen, in this passive season
No path to Eden
The only part of it left is simply cartilage
Ready for that martyrdom, harbor them, then harm again
I am that drop between the curb and street
Search and seizures certain seekers are the first to leave
The work of circus freaks
Terse amoebas floating in a pool of poison scum
Ribbon breakers testing medals that’ll hoist a lung
A toyful tongue, pierced with canines the blood it gushes
Fear the daytime, hiding in the dust amongst us
Talk is nice and cheap, but my doubts now supply the grief
Four horsemen of apocalypse pariah steeds
Straining just to take a stand, when I try to breathe
Fight or flee, immobilized in all my times of need
Behind the shrine is where they hide, maligned the tiny wreath
Advice suppliers with vices knives and pliers sliding free
Repeating with the demons teaching them to turn with me
Stuck on losses second third fourth and fifth thoughts, bursting free
Immersed in beats, my soul submerges into soulful dirges
They pray for hits, slump busters, while I wrote with purpose
The only part of it left is simply cartilage
Ready for that martyrdom, harbor them, then harm again
I’m Eric Spoelstra working your goats until they’re out to pasture
Homeward bound with molten crowns you’ve found the vocal master
No compassion, so brash I leave them broken, bashed in
Quotes are massive, a mastiff foaming at the mouth of madness
Devout combatants defy the deities they once had praised
My soul is driven, never shall succumb to wage
I run the maze from above, refuse to run within it
Begun with hatred to nudge, my taste is tongue forbidden
Refuse to budge, catch me limping with bazooka crutches
Ready to take aim and break frames, peruse percussion
Grooves combustive final call supplier we place wreaths
…Sankofa over beats straight from PHD
Keep feeding them more and more, watch them freebase greed
Souls for bid, complete with eBay fees
The auctioneers make a killing steady d day scenes
Normandy the war in me forming to reap gray dreams
Started following Juga-Naut upon hearing him break down life and rap relating to Kool G Rap on Crate808 and I've been a fan since. Wordplay, skill, the dope backdrops, what's not to love? Sankofa
