fuck yes I used to be a cynical dude had myself a shitty attitude which didn't improve until I found about an ounce of some ridiculous shrooms and cracked my head open to some primitive truth on spherical floor with an infinite roof spinning in space, I look out and grin at the moon lately, I live my life simple and smooth grateful for the galaxy that gives me this food stay tuned to little hidden physical cues and listen to the bullshit your children consume too addicted to stupid, derivate loops to really understand intangible original moves don't hate what I make cuz it tastes different to you this is me, and my soul, flipping the groove with rapid rhymes cuz that's what I'm conditioned to do spitting images too intricate to fit in this booth used to have dreams about starting the movement a revolt of the poets, the artist and students but the kids act up, and that's part of the blueprint just like public schools and the cars and the music I learned this Leary and Marshall McLuhan if you see me as an easy target, you're stupid I lost you in Dallas, departed from Houston stay awake and alive, cuz martyrs are useless it's been a long time...and I'm glad that I left you I been practicing chess moves and snacking on fresh fruit spit spirals of visual art then rip it apart before it hits the critics and sharks who want me framed, wombats cannot be tamed copied, changed or wrapped up and bought today just walk away...I'll never change what I created for the sake of entertainment, y'all can pay me when I'm famous I follow this path because it's all that I have and it's an obvious fact you got a problem with that and so be it...yeah, you people get some lawyers I got some Aretha divas and Shiva the destroyer half mathematician, half black magician surpass the limit of this holographic image used lab technicians keeping track of facts and fiction used to lack conviction, now I make an active difference stand back cuz this is more than raps I've written it's patterns, rhythms, equations and vacuum physics tracks so vivid critics have to listen got your favorite rapper sniffing outside the master's kitchen
It's the bridge burning specialist, call for free estimates from bitchy secretaries who refuse to take messages complicate relationships and make enemies instantly when it comes to fucking up, I'm one of the best in the industry true enough, I show up at your house, do some drugs then crank that music up until I pass out puking blood you want a taste of this, sit down and make a list of all that dangerous and crazy shit you were too afraid to risk robbing banks in Vegas, hooking up with famous chicks nowadays I take a piss in public and get paid for it don't need to see the cops to know that I'm being watched I walk crooked, so the snipers can't get a decent shot got a natural talent for balancing polar opposites flow provocative poems and roll in stolen rocketships I could float along but my whole approach was wrong so I wrote this song to figure out what the fuck to focus on a seven day cleansing break just to meditate on how to end the hate I'm seeing every day no solution in sight, and so I'm using this mic to speak my soul and keep this whole community tight but I'm a tricky dude, moving to a different groove this is just a sample of the channels that I'm flipping through rocking business suits, still eating cold kitten food stoned, giving you shit up in your own living room
(everyone hates me) and there's a reason for that when you're speaking the facts weak people get mad (everyone hates me) we know a lot of you cats are talking some trash, we watch it and laugh
been awhile since I sat down and wrote to a beat nowadays I'm an out of place opium freak still bark at the moon and bite marketing dudes you will not see my album in Target this June walked the line until I lost my mind I haven't got the time to really be an honest guy ..and that's a tricky methodology, follow me? I change names randomly to maintain sanity the medium is music, the mind is the weapon beat is the pulse that's providing the message I leave behind in every single mind that I mess with the virus connected, like a sinus infection... target practice, slapstick, charlie chaplin full starving artist package, party crashing Harvard frat kids, thanks for the drugs aim for the rug, and leave that shit stained for a month the vodka tonic got me sweating a bit cuz you can never predict shit when thirtyseven is ripped a dangerous brain, so no playing it safe containing my rage, or watching what I say when I'm blazed monkey religion is a substance addiction and I got twelve steps for recovering christians listen - this is not a popularity contest for bitter little rich kids and arrogant potheads
what's this? a message to humans with guts what's that? live crazy and do as you must how come? most monkeys are stupid as fuck why's that? bad food, music and drugs>
composing with silence, provoking a riot showing open horizons to broken appliances not distracted with surface reactions I learned how to practice a system to see listen and breathe to find the rhythm beneath whatever physical meat that I live in this week breath is a weapon, perfected my method with sentences stretching in every direction armed to the teeth, spit sharpened and clean my tools are invisible and hard to believe trust me, I function on nothing but weed, beats drums and machines with malfunctioning screens ...oh seven and the spark has died so don't march in line with target signs times have changed, we gotta redesign the game to find a way to survive until the final days so what's this?