Second single from Square One. Produced by imaGenius. Featuring Kartune from The Lower Class. Album artwork by Kartune.
I ain't here to change rap, but maybe I'll dismember it.
Leave it in the trunk for Olivia and Elliot.
Broadcast violence for public access masses.
Elijah Wood look-a-like with Sin City glasses.
DKTHGK cutting fabrics for your new fashions.
Like anonymous I deliver, export, no taxes.
No duties, and less responsibility.
It was my gift to you, y'all were blowing off the chivalry.
I make it like grant wishes to get with Kari Byron.
Crash the flying carpet into Gullah Gullah Island.
Sirens crying, citizens whining.
I shine a quarter, pay for a wine-and-dine with my favorite heinie.
Tell you like I told her, I'm digging it up tonight,
so 9 months later you'll have a birth in the after life.
This is arrogance and intelligence, collide.
Not even a lion's pride could help you survive.
No I don't play a gangster, who the fuck wants to be?
Quick college campus cats who can't maintain an average C.
Me? I got my Doctorates, followed by an opt-out.
You can throw in the towel, it's a total knockout.
I'll make a terrorist grab an ice cream cone.
This is Allah mode. I'm already in my zone.
Already got your head, now you're waiting by the phone.
The only reason that I'll call is to say, I'm never coming home.
I'm going far away...
I'm a sad sack of shit who'd do anything for a grip,
but the game always seems to slip my fingertips.
Butter hands, butter feet, sly discreet, starting beef.
Wonder why a former cripple is running the industry.
I'm falling flat faced, and feeling more phenomenal.
Eff the PH levels, I'll dive head first and heartless into the chemicals.
Make myself a mutated monster, stop the chambers and ventricles.
Here comes the pinnacle.
Deke isn't miniscule.
I'm never last place, dude. Always on the pedestal.
I'm the confidence you felt when you won your first boxing match.
Cool as when you figured you could rock a backwards hat.
As dangerous as the invention of crack.
Hanging out like I needed more slack, got a noose around my neck.
Asking for a reset, do you wanna take bets?
Odds are my future's gonna end up like that.
I die laughing at my own jokes, still homicidal.
Messiah flip the empire with hopes to inspire.
Spirals down the drain, now a dreamer turned liar
cuts power to the kings wire by wire.
I locked myself away for meditation and practice.
I'm bound to offend like defending the Westboro Baptists.
Straight outta Texas, betrayed by lack of accent.
Line up, mother fucks, I'm an MC fascist.
King of The Iron Bitch.
Fascist, fuck that I'm Marxist.
Mark this script of dry wit I'm babbling out chapped lips.
Drop bricks, breaking brick and mortars,
then thrift shops resell it for profit like Mohammed.
Hominids telling me I'm a prophet.
Monetized tides makes me nauseous, cautious of conscience.
Piss on your pompous psalms, pump palms
into your nostril, trickle led out of what's your red count.
Mounted in my mental is pencil
focused on scribbles of what I've been through,
but the kid in me meant to stay mint.
Yet the wrapping package was let loose,
out the box like brand new shoes for the black youth.
That's soul of Motown, go toe to toe with mo'clowns.
Bobo stop the faux sounds, make pronouns more profound.
Founder of the photon positive you won't last long,
Fucking oblonged bygones be gone
released October 10, 2012
All lyrics by D. Koloroutis and X. Palin.
Produced by A. Torres.