Now who you know leave the scene
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Messier than canvas's by Jackson Pollock
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Throwing multicolored thoughts at a rapid pace
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I make a mess you dissect it and make sense of it
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Then get back to me at your earliest convenience
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Check my verbal sequence as I texturize these tracks
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Seven layers to be exact eliminate the whack
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With a firm brush stroke I mc paintily
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Lyricists begin crumbling from my scumbling technique
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As I tweak your audio and visual keep my drips minimal messages subliminal
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Cause me and rap go way back we compliment
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So together we enhance one another that's common sense
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High intensity catches the eye your jaw drops
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Be a real critic not explicit with false props
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I keep my darks deep my lights bright I'm very thorough
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With my churascurro inspiration spark and a knife
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Now watch me rock the spot like ? minus the heroin
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And make my face popular like Andy did to Marilyn
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Its kinda scary when real art gets left behind
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While they take bullshit and start sellin it to blind folks
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But I remain humble as long as ? continues spinnin hot shit
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On his twin twelve-hundred color wheels of steel
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F**k mass appeal art is art only the real can truly feel it
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So open your eyes and listen
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Combine your ears with vision
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Or do it cause you love it
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Or for cash that's your decision
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That's your decision
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That's your decision
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Its like I'm torn between two worlds
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A paintbrush and a microphone
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A canvas or a beat
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CD or LP
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Anything goes when my ink pen flows
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And God only knows where its gonna bring me next
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So I'm inclined to like paint rhymes and spit kaleidoscopes with one eye closed
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And I suppose if you chose the path that I chose
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You know the cycle ass ho don't front
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It goes inspiration and productivity then a sense of self worth and in steps depression
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Like back and forth and forth and back
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Should I paint a picture or record a track
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A gift or a curse I don't know I'm still undecided
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But over the years I've found clever ways to hide it
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And those that lack the passion I have may despise it
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But my momma made me this way I thank her everyday
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So tell them kids to keep coloring outside the lines
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Until they lose they limitations and they minds is free
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Tell them teachers that you want your money back this time
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And tell Bob Ross for all the happy little trees
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And tell my momma that her baby boy is doing just fine
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Although hes running out of patience but his mind is free
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And tell my pops that I'll pay his money back sometime
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And that his son is two steps away from where he needs to be
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Happy Little Trees
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| Gym Class Heroes |
