(Chorus)
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I've been so many places
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In my life and time
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Yes, I've sung a lot of songs
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I've made some bad rhymes
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Top of the world
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Yet I aint never left my head to turn and look back
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Every second page is anthem
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Perfected writ mood
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In the perfect world I set the perfect mood
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And in perverted abodes, I claim rogue
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Enflame clothes and sing songs of underdepression love
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Chemical imbalanceship, paranoia
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My scientist fiction, I kick space raps that's down to Earth and
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The kids that get dubs are the only ones that wanna listen
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My words are my world, believe it or not they mean a lot to some
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Can't say that I'm ahead of time, I fear that my time will never come
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Can't exist outside the bottle, you'll crack under pressure
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No aggression, why they've got to learn,
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if they don't things won't get any better
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Listenin' to God burn objects of animal animating
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in a still life picture of the La Brea tar pit
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Walking the surface of my red carpet
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These are distress signals spanning you and I
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Inversatile if anyone here's a soul survivor of a dying civilization
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A galaxy called integrity (In that belt called creativity)
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But it's not a black corpse, snuffed by a cold world, I keep warm
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By burning dead bodies smelling the beats and never cess
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So, um, you can walk the streets until the building no longer remains
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My people are my people, comrades, and allies, the lines are drawn
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This is my gold tank, everywhere I go don't belong
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I'm known by most, hated by many, endured by the rest
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Police in dead skin, I'm so East,
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well then why did I end up on the West???
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Don't wanna sacrifice my cadence,
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and sentence structure design of my rhymes, etc.
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ANTICON, hip-hop music for the advancement of mankind
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More than an egomanical sarcastic label for a movement
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So when the chain still smells
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like a million dead corpses and kerosene marching
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To burn down the walls of the village and storm the castle,
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run up the damsels
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Take 'em to the river, now we can spawn
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This aint premillenium tension, it's the result of too much free time,
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On dusty fingers, and it'll be a wonderful ride
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A million bleeding hearts composing prose in blood
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To live and die a thousand times
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(Chorus)
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Ever been to Hell?
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This is a black-and-white photo album outlines in increments
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The infrastructure is dead
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Instructed look at the scene of the massacre askin' for forgiveness,
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no beggin'
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No degrading anybody, everybody's in the alleyway for the Sole cast
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??? watch me rip it and mark my words in white chalk
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Gawking at reflections walking in insurrections getting bad ones
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This isn't spoken word, it's the reinvention of Sugar Hill
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Right now, your girl is transfixed upon my hips
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And this is Sole, and we're makin love right now,
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so I don't need to take her to the hotel
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This is a love song, I pass out roses with the thorns in my flesh
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It's like these are groupies, I'm a mammal,
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my whole life's a freestyle set
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The Earth's an orb in the sky, so nothing gets to my head
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The universe is my A&R, by the time I fall off, I'll probably dead
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It's been a long time since those mountain pipe dreams were stuffed in snow
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Now my culture's pierced, by the greatest accountance I've ever known
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It's nothing personal, hip-hop design has gotten vain,
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So emcees I aint feeling you, if I don't know your real name
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Hip-hop aint dead, the industry's just wack,
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and hip-hop is a thoroughfare
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Keep your sights set
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What do you wanna move, rappers, minds or posteriors?
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I'm still a fan, corporate insider, and brain nigga
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It's springtime we're the centaurs and people in grass skirts
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This is the verge, the melting point
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When your favorite emcees can't be lazy anymore
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This is psychopath, this is psych rap
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With violence, violence
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My life is stranded on an island with no food
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and beautiful women feeding my ego or what little is left
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No, this is gangsta rap and my shirt's unbuttoned
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We're stealing moments of brilliance in the limelights
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choppin' up keys to break the floodgates
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Maybe this is instrumental hip-hop and I don't know when to shut up
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Or |