Album Notes

Yo, if I drop it you can't catch it; my weight's so great
It creates ‘scapes in gates to inner-space; to thin
The trace of thingness to such thinness, it begins
To get indistinguished -- I bring this to your fingers
Of the blind; you fail to unveil, to find,
The details of the Braille of the tale of the rhyme
In English; my mind, I mean, it seems just a teeming
Combustion of steaming discussion, but hush when I get such
That I touch the inner crust of something to find it's nothing
When I trust in one, it becomes the sum of crushing amounts
Of doubts that sprout a route, to crowd about, like clouds gushing,
Spout and fussing -- I'm flushing the question then rushing to pressing
The function of guessing, then resting on ground that’s bound to be found
On lines of fault and trussing -- I'm inducting my crutches into hunting
Gear for fear I'm encompassing the crushing,
Gusting winds of time that clear and shine and dust the mind.

Yo, you see that new video by don’tchaknow they say so-and-so’s leavin’ that show I hope they go primetime they say that movie’s supposed to be really good you’ll never guess what Joey said to me I never miss my Jeopardy do you think that she’s gained weight guess how many horses are under that hood do you think it’s too late for ice cream did you see her in that magazine to get married is my only dream lighten up I wish you would isn’t that really dirty though this is gettin’ really boring so I’ma go in the room with the T.V. glow

Vibin’ in the corner by myself

This is just a simple game of word compilation
My ability is massive like U.S. support of Israel
Yours? Like U.S. support of Haitians
I’m like the immigration of Asians -- my doctor, engineer,
And merchant class material smash your Central-American immigrant
Service class statements; my rhymes are the calm patience
Of first world nations in the face of third world suffering that doesn’t effect
First world economic situations -- I’m on the rise like the numbers of
African AIDS patients and world overpopulation
You’re an understatement, like “there’s a lack of minorities in U.S. congressional representation,”
Unjustified like Cuban economic sanctions,
Essentially nonexistent like the taxation of corporations,
Or mainstream-originated artistic innovation
My word placement defies convention like the United States
Defies U.N. resolutions on race relations, military
Occupation, and environmental legislation, while you’re conventional
Like arms races -- I see your style ‘round every corner like
Chemicals in the meals at fast food places; I’m unavoidable
Like the rat race is, you’re shallow like a T.V. watcher’s taste is,
Complacent like the average person’s political statements,
And limited like the rights of patients; fake
Like an acquaintance’s embraces, and never breaking even,
Like and insurance claimant’s case is

Greenery and skies blue with no pollution, imagine
Getting along with life and breaking living habits
Of killing insects instinctively instruments of killing fields
Nuclear creation was created to kill masses for better oil deals
My realm is covered with North Koreans starving to death
And the hands of US are covered in babies’ blood to the last breath
I go to a theatre and see a theatrical re-mastering of Pearl Harbor
The sequel is Hiroshima where women and children can’t barter
For their lives against US, the ultimate fire-starter, ultimate liar
Ultimate dollar being sought via human death; I’m larger than you are, sir
I’m playing the ultimate game of Risk
Over capitalistic greed but don’t perceive the consequence
‘Cause five percent own 90 percent of all that’s ownable
On a feeble planet inhabited by US my reap is sewable
Chop down the last tree that is green
And convince you it’s a peacekeeping mission based on need

Hey, what are you doin’ later tonight, you goin’ out or goin’ to a movie man that last one really moved me it was a book I didn’t know that wasn’t that newest video phat don’t you love that new commercial what do you mean us being bombed for once would be a kind of role reversal will you turn it back to Mtv for me ok well what about BET what do you mean they’re all the same evidently you’ve got no sight of course we’re right, they’re all fanatics I heard that Dwight’s a dope fiend addict it’s really a shame, those homeless people just buy booze when you give them change I try to refrain from talking behind backs but did you see what she was wearing what do you mean all those sitcoms are the same Noriega Osama Bin Laden Saddam Hussein Bill Clinton Peter Jennings that Colin Powell sure has some brains don’t he I just voted for the guy I thought I’d like to most get to know me there’s a sale down at the mall I didn’t know you were cool until television showed me and it’s really a shame and terrible that he didn’t win that Tony or Emmy, Oscar, Grammy, will you never understand me?

So much pain, am I insane there’s nothing more to gain, I’m livin’
In shame of a stained life I made; my veins
Inflame with the pain that I can’t sustain;
*** and I remain a reckless hurricane, cryin’
In the corner by myself, with no one else
But me; I see a light at the end, but there’s no hope
For me; I call my momma, is that all there is
For me, what was I meant to be, please tell me
She said son, get a job, buy a car
And a house; find a wife, have some kids, try to make
A new life; it ain’t right, the way you live it’s time to give your
Life to God and be a man, He’s got a plan, He wants to work
Through you; I explain, my ways are inhumane, the demons
I blame; can’t hold ‘em back, can’t keep the evil contained
My eyes are bloodshot, red, and strained, sweat flowin’ like rain
I pull the trigger back and aim, ‘bout to blow out my brain

A, yo, Johann Sebastian, I'm knockin’ your door
And askin’ if I can rock with Black Thought impart hip-hop and
Art fashion; matter fact it'd start with the happenin'
Of clappin' in the back with Biz Mark laughin,’ while I'm
Mappin' the track with big, smart, and sharp rappin’; that’s
When you start blastin' the chords, mashin' the keys of the organ-heart
With passion and force; imagine the course, of course
You’re massive according to passages from lords of masses; applause from classes,
From poor to those with loads of massive caches of
Cash and flashes; “music surpasses views” you mastered;
To prove to last you must use an act with a rising action that surpasses
Astronomical passages and packages what magic is, and outlasts the bouts
Without accidents

Hey, yo, Tchaikovsky, I’m chillin’ with Biz Markie
I asked him if he’d spark me with a beat so, yo
What? Nah, he’s the cat, the one with the boogers and the vapors
The one who laced us with those “Just a Friend” capers
Tchaikovsky, you down? You gonna be in town?
Oh, you’ll be in Vienna for a week layin’ sounds
For the crown? That’s kinda old school man,
I got the mic in the hand; check the concept of the jam
We got The Human Beat Box, a part from Black Thought
Here’s the clincher: we might get Bach
You wanna rock? Cool -- we’ll take it back to old school
And rule and mix it up with classical

A Yo bust this: back in the day we used to bust it
Busted it so much when we'd bust you bust disgusted
Plus because we discussed with busts you hushed it
It frustuated; you musta hated as much busts we stated
We played it out, but bust what the bust’s all about
Bust in each in every sentence, every word, without a doubt
Every second the sound was bustin’ in and all around
We busted when it's profound, we busted just to confound
We busted just to surround this and that and every noun
Bustin' in town we busted it down, in bustin’ we found
That we can bust a bust in any conversation
Why you sit not bustin'? Bust this, and just bust the hatin'
We busted in the early mornin’ and the night
We busted bustas till the bustas bustin’ felt right
We busted for a couple seconds to a freakin’ hour
I busted fifty busts when I was bustin’ in the shower
When I was bustin' here, my boys were bustin' there
I busted several hundred busts within my underwear
I busted way more busts than the average buster would
But if you bust like we bust then you bust and bust it good.

We busted in and busted out like your busted *** rhymes

Bust back, yo, trust that; I'm havin' a flashback
And even turnin' back from my attack I bust off shots
Normal and ab; I bust it when I get it
I bust it like I'm too pretended; yo, I don't understand
That, but I'm thinner than I used to be
Like, I'm still half of the man that I once was, and I can't see
Front you, and bust you, so you can bust some later
Across the landscape with my busted mule for acres
Why? bust all the time 'cuz bust or rather
Rise to the occassion with the mislead bust to symbolize
My i's are crossed and t's are dotted for price
My wheels are busted on my wagon not once, but twice
I still bust my sentence structure, busted fragment grenades
Back on the point: I'm not gettin' paid
47.9 million pieces king's men
Can't put my busted ass style back together again

Now I just left the studio and things are lookin’ groovy
So I *** and spark a light proceed to do it
And I look for the keys in my bluejeans -- they’re not in the pocket
But I think I lost it, or, I musta dropped it
And, uh, what should I do but call a few of my boys from
The Midnight :30 crew, to come over and *** and sip
On some brew; and so would you, ***
Alone, or sit by the phone when nobody’s callin’
Your home, boy you want a tour of my bag of joy? Ain’t no thing,
Brotha -- *** for my boy Leroy’s own
Mother; so come on down ***
Of this ‘cuz right now I got the touch like I was Rodimus
Prime example of a ***, misleaded young
*** ‘cuz I mistreat it and fiend it and take my *** home
To bed; ‘cuz if the drag is long, I’m ***
My lungs are black and scarred and I look like a retard

Things are lookin’ right

I come from lands of fat farmers, cattle, pick-ups and trees
Ain’t never nuthin’ to do that ain’t been done since last week
But *** -- it’s what I do when I do it
I’d rather do what I did as a kid, but, ah, screw it
Knew it wouldn’t last forever and now I’m bored out
My mind, so I rhyme; ***
target markets that’s open all night
And gets *** (man, you know that’s not right)
Alright, it’s me and crew, it’s just Skooch and the two
Freakies what we wishin’ for and nothin’s what we do
So pop in Tucker and Cube; we end up watchin’ the tube
And parlayin’, sittin’, sayin’ what we’re wantin’ to do
Then yo, it looks up, ‘cuz some freakies show up
Thought this night was lookin’ whack, but now it’s blowin’ up
*** for the cuties with the curvage
***, like my DJ, got the courage

Yo, Gottapoop, the inventor, go grab that ***
***
It’s got a mad fat chamber, so no longer be in danger
Of the ashes that give scratches to the lungs that give me anger
Ain’t no stranger ***
Skooch, the danger rearranger
Ay yo, *** just as I’m getting’ the mic
Spur of the moment group performance is the *** they like
Our complimentary styles lead to jockin’ and smiles
Yo Gottapoop, me and this freakie, we’s ‘bout to be out
We’ll be back in awhile, though; yo, that’s what I need
No need to plead; ***, gonna push up with speed
As I proceed to undress her I feel the need to caress her
While I’m ***
It seems like forever; yo, we be doin’ whatever –
The whole crib’s rockin’ -- *** is righter than ever

Yo, It’s amazing
How these “Please accept me so I can define
Myself” types employ systematic, destroy,
Destructive device movement tactics to match it --
Any whack ***; unconsciously I can map it,
Track it, due to their follow the petty pop formula
Like a moth to flame movement, nothin’ to it, non-cerebral
Flash ***; simplistic, but when they camouflage
With the intention of an invasion, that’s when my amazing strength
Is brought to bear; not grazing, square, landing in the face
Of the would-be invader; I’m an outsider like Nader,
Swinging swords like Vader, usin’ a pen and paper
To painfully pick and scrape your tomb -- your illusion,
Non-substantive mind-state petty attempt to belong cultural room
And in your doom find salvation
And awaken; and help to fight
Against this invasion: the underground infiltration

My neurological inhabits technological
Deficiencies, especially when I see a whack emcee
Tryin’ to rip like he mastered the craft; infiltrator,
Transparent like the equator; play the game
For show like A.C. Slater; I eat you candy coated cats
Either now or later; I’m a hater when it come
To whack rhyme sayers, wanna-be players, non-
Cognitive debaters; I get biz when I mark
These cats and shoot my vapors -- they talkin’ ‘bout they cars,
Then we roll ‘em up like papers; my greatest caper
The revolution won’t be televised; we got our watches
Synchronized; wait until we see the whites of eyes
And then we blastin’, conscience reachin’ out to masses
Mission accomplishment after years of plannin’
Broke the cycle of mind programmin’, tired
Of cats who just be ramblin’; my people finally understandin’

Infiltration

I feel the footsteps in the darkness, but I can’t see the infiltraitors
Heartless, are they? Yep, and I can smell ‘em
Senses over wisdom I can hear ‘em tellin’
Discrete secrets my deja-vu seeks ‘em out
But I doubt truth can reach ‘em; still I slide through pyramids
Where tombs reside; but not In Egypt, but through
The evil eye; not the third eye, ‘cause on that I rely
To guide me through the darkest closets where I reside
It’s known to be in my home, deep into
The zone causin’ mischief, hate; the great await known
Not by many; zoned residential if any -- it’s not
Commercial, hesitant to come against me so my roof over dwelling
Protects my canopy; yo, its tilted at the
Angle to very slippery for the rain, snow
Wind and infiltraitors who grapple up the side
To mentally rape you; wait, I think I feel ‘em comin’
Staggerin’ through their drunken state

Oh, the tangled webs we weave, when we practice to deceive

Let’s take a stand
Like concession against all forms of deception
Which leads to oppression and leaves a lasting impression;
Now there’s only room for correction; medication
For progression -- there’s only truth in this session
My suggestion is to gain possession of truth
For your protection, since it’s disguised as a blessin’
To threaten all sections in which the fake dominate --
They simulate, instigate, and go all out to infiltrate
Symbiotic illustrate to accommodate
King plus Skooch to put knowledge to use
We demolish your groups of flukes and rebuke
The untruth; knowledge stems from the root

It should be understood to be a real war

And it’s not a new war, it’s an old war

You haven’t heard some of the things that goes on

‘Cuz you always hide behind people hidin’ behind the people that’s hidin’

Infiltration
The evil demonstration of the placement of complacence --
A light in the basement adding flowers and vases
Amongst dirty faces, tight spaces; don’t fit -- watch how I erase it
This thing is like a war of maintenance
Fightin’ for survival against rivals with money on their faces
It ain’t about races, east, west, clan, or click; it’s culture;
It’s wisdom; it’s how I’m livin’; and they erasin’ it; quit
Coming to me with your mainstream glitz fake scene pipe dream
Pseudo-social construct mentality, Mtv reality
I get enough of that *** in my eyes without you whack guys and your lies
Comin’ by infiltratin’ my mind like devious spies; why?
I understand that your identity is weak enough that you must act
Tough; I understand that your maturity is not enough
I understand that your vocabulary is based on marketing scheme
Big business product record company corporate material
Imagery, but keep that *** away from me

So is there anything else I can think of saying to you? I can think of saying all the bad things to you, ‘cuz you always hide behind people hidin’ behind the people that’s hidin’. And when find yourself hidin’ in a circle and everybody’s hidin’, and then you say “well, what you all hidin’ from?” – they’re hidin’ from themselves, they’re hidin’ from what they think of themselves, they’re hiding from the truth. You’re hiding from you – sneak, snake, slimy *** animal, be yourself. Be yourself. Quit play-actin’ that good guy ***with me. Dig what I’m sayin’?

I crush bots with a swat, a shot; I’m hot; smokin’
Dots; leave the spot slots, now watch a ***
Drop; props, kill a bot, *** wreck shop
Now flocks of Autobots see what Decepticons got
Forgot about the raw, kill you all *** robotic
Devil, rebel with no level; metal scatter, shatter jaws
With the claws, no pause or flaws; smokin’ ya’lls; optimals
Will fall with the wreckin’ ball size of my fist
A hit; I wonder can I miss my metamorphasis
A devastator, I cater more heat than’s on the equator
I’m a raider, check the data of your neighbor: throat sliced
With a saber, tore like paper; I’m an Autobot hater
No one greater; got this purple shade on my chest --
Better believe I’m the best; I’ll put you *** to rest;
Tempests of non-believers, I’m a backstabbin’ deceiver,
Cheater, liar weaver -- a real *** good guy eater

Buckin’ and dashin, duckin’ and blastin’
It happened fast, but we just not lastin’
The gates are crashed in -- they monster mashin’
All of these defenses that we have, how did they pass them?
No question askin’, just chaos and flashin’
Beams; it seems our dreams are dashed with a splash
When Decepticons attackin’ where Autobots live --
These hands of steel and this gun is all I got to give

Their defenses are crushed; as we sweep in, our wings scream
There’s mad explosions, erosion, laser beams
Look to the left, see a chest explode to pieces
I hit an Autobot’s chest, ha, now he knows my thesis
We fallin’ left and fallin’ right
Like our right and might might not see the light
Of tomorrow; no tomorrow, now the Autobots burn
Abandon all hope when this bad news I learn

If I could cry, no lie, I would when Prime died
When Prime died, all my circuits fried inside
The world sighed and turns tide when Prime died
Decepticon lies and pride and so Prime died

Amidst ashes, laser blasts, crashes, flashes,
Evil aftermath -- stir my wrath disaster
It’s past the past; just grab my blaster
Red haze is my sight; red rage is my master

These Autobots don’t know when they’re beat; it’s defeat
And delete, a complete elite of the fleet, I hear retreat
And deplete; they can’t compete against Decepticons; they come,
I drop the bombs -- I blast them into atoms
Splat ‘em; I wanna shred ‘em; head ‘em off ‘cuz I won’t let ‘em
Fall back from the attack – I’m on their back, I’m gonna get ‘em
Wet ‘em up ‘cuz I’m a killa -- drill a hole and take his soul
Better transform and roll before my wrath unfolds

I’m cut off from the mass, transform and break fast
Cut left, double back and attack but their jets
Are just too fast -- I don’t last; it’s acid
Pain in my side where I just got blasted
Energy flashin’; constantly blastin’
Explosive attacks force me back from the action
(It’s a shame these Autobots die so easy)
The city burns in the distance and all hope leaves me

I think how Wheeljack and Windcharger fell in the flames
Insane my mainframe’s never felt such pain
Remain trapped away from the city in flames
Relentlessly sought by Decepticon planes
And forced to run, hide, then run again
Can it be I’ll never see Arcee again?
My vision warps and bends – my major systems are failing
Here one comes, lasers blasting and black smoke
Trailing

He’s runnin’ I’m gunnin’ it’s fun and it’s somethin’ to summon
Somethin’ deadly and stunnin’ or somethin’ terrible and lunging
Plungin’ outta the dungeon phenomenon when I’m gunnin’
Shunnin’ all these Autobots from the top my fists are thumpin’
Jumpin’ outta the dark a spark, his head’s depart
You’re leader’s dead I said I put him to bed it wasn’t too hard
You’re scarred and charred so far see what you really are
A ***, trashed Autobot ain’t goin’ too far

Bleedin’ energon hidden behind a rock
Being stalked by this Decepticon talking
‘Bout Prime’s dead the other enemies fled
Just then, look around, spot the top of his head
Pull up my gun, body hurt, vision bent,
Hope the sight’s right, pull the trigger, and then…

Have y'all ever seen those videos with naked, big-booty girls
And the emcee be rhymin' and you be like, "yo, that joint is ill"
But chill, the rapper think he's slick, he can't rhyme a lick,
So he presents the naked chick to cover up his lack of skill

There's somethin' greater at stake than the state of hip-hop
I'm layin' fakers to waste and callin' out all their props
Particular emphasis on just one
Hey yo, two you know its true, boobies in your face, son
Three times you ain't really got to ask me if
Do I really like checkin' out the big booty ***?
It's like a wave as I rush myself, yo I touch
It's a must that I lust as I shake off all the dust
Five times, look alive, do my thing, take a ride
After that, yo it's splat on that napkin that I hide
So if you feenin' for release, no time to get it on
Why get the porno channel? Yo, rap video's always on

I turn on the T.V. and see Mister Butt Cheeks
Mrs. Big Boobs, and Mister G String, chillin' with Mrs. Cleavage
Mrs. Makeup, Mister Nipple and Miss Thong
And they all hangin' with my *** Unoriginal Song
There's Mrs. Singin' In The Chorus and Mister I Don't Give A What,
Gimme The Loot 'Cuz These Fools Will Buy Anything That Sucks
If We Can Just Get A Few You-Know-Who's To Show Their You-Know-Whats
And Turn This Imagery To An Ocean Of Baginas, Boobs, And Butts
Strippers And ***, And When Nuts Bust Around The World
When Young Boys All Take *** In Their Knucks
And Imagine *** Instead Of Thongs, And Guess What?
We'll Have Every Teenager In The World Lovin' Us!
I saw Mrs. Face With No Name and Miss Flash walk past
With Mrs. Disembodied *** and Miss Disembodied ***
Mister Gold Teeth and Chain was like, "Don't be a hater!!!
We all just the children of Lowest Common Denominator!"

There's women on the left, women on the right,
That I don't like, a yo, gimme the mic
I might get nice without dykes on bikes, or catfights,
Or lights, or sights that ignite pipes
Booties ripe, flash at night, doesn't hype what you bite
I write while you psyche, I fight the right to site
A girl you like on stage to hike shirts and skirts, it hurts
When their spikes work dirt in the works; your spurts,
Squirt bursts perks energy lurks; it's worst when
the first thing you do today's disperse flows of no
Love upon the soul; pressin', that's no question when
You're restin', wrestlin' with remote control

I turn you on at eight, seven central; like dark and Oriental
Looks: supplemental; Hair: yeah it's a rental
Dental paste with the plastic face, in case of replace
Or outbreak, and stomach ache; you better throw up that *** you just ate
You's a ***, faint side of stank; I wonder when
You last ate? Your weight, 88, cosmopolitan playmate
I compensate, though, when I date a featherweight
Radiate and elevate, generate and detonate,
Turn her over, ***, and regulate
Make no mistake that 69 percent is fake of her
*** now it's runnin' down her shirt
I hope she's got insurance 'cuz her *** don't work

I wow figures like pow, now rivers be flowin'
Out of my mouth and mountains shiver while my shouts knowin' the fountains
Give you knowledge of why my college is fly; tuition’s
Given for livin' decision; my system for wisdom
Vision up high; heat friction will lie; fission lies frozen for
Times untold until I'm bold to kill cold loads of steel molds
In minds; so who's so fine to line soothe with movin' moods
In time? Windin' down from climbin' round my sound gives mounds to those
Who find

Increase the gravity of my rhyme ‘till my pull
Build enough to slow down time; and rules, laws,
Of the physics involved caused to pause; the degree:
My verse expose all philosophical flaws
See, saw, to be seen, the same, I’ll explain:
Take the emphasis from out to in your mind frame --
Just like beauty’s in the eye, it’s all behold
Truth be told, I doubt that your doubt will hold
You doubt, but don’t doubt your doubt -- you ask “why?”
I ask why you ask, why you disguise and lie,
Confuse faith by renaming it “a priori”
In attempt to justify, but you’re confused by pride --
You think that knowledge means proof, that science means truth,
That reason gives you cause to think you know what to do;
But you only know what you know ‘cuz faith is the key
I grow, expose faith, according to me
Choose what to believe; no problem to me --
Only askin’ answer why it is you see what you see;
You believe in reason and doubt
But don’t doubt, and then you’ll know truth

Take a look at your reflection, what you perceive is based on what you believe is true

Faith is what you make it -- that’s the hardest *** since MC Ren

The first that deserves to be established is words
Not concerned with patterns preferred for matters absurd
It's badder to learn that your chatter is churned by
Combative, mad, sad, or battle terms; it's bad
If you turn away from the safest place is based in pads
Of concern; the submerged kernel of ferns and birds prefer
The thermals emerge from the supernal convergence of souls
Yearning for merging to behold the mold that controls the whole goal
Of growth in notes untold, confirming the Most High’s perfect
Forming of morning imploring the born into pouring the story of His
Glory upon the mourning; profuse snoring confounds, downs,
And drowns the sounds of profound, powerful imploring

A single bite gave me open laceration, viral infection, nerve damage, hemorrhage, and bruising

We blessed with free will so we choose to be ill

The second for discussion is the following string of symbolic
Representations of conceptions that if you trust enough or put enough
Faith in, you’ll more than find a way to turn your minuses into pluses,
Your fuss into trustin’ -- nothin’ but selfishness and lustin’
Is at the base of our baseness; Angels have terrible faces when facing
The faithless, and touch places not faced, or we’ve attempted to
Erase without the tool of a faith which is put in the right place --
A faith which is put in the right place; the right place
Doesn’t mean the correct area of bounded space; the veil between
You and grace is so thin that it’s fake, but you inflate
It for the sake of your comfort -- we create it like fate, mind-state, or hate
The mind quakes to contemplate the true nature of faith;
It’s nothing like zero, yet everything like sideways eight

It just somehow doesn’t feel right to feel old at twenty-four
Frustrated, disassociated from the world, sittin’, steamin’
At the visions of the ruinin’ of your dreams through the dissolution
Of youth’s illusions -- a gradual slide into conclusions
‘Cuz the jump is held back by what ultimately is realized
To be an idiotic holding onto hope -- reality crushes all
That deny insanity, and I’ve had one too many bad trips to book that
Trip, although at times I still wonder but without the former feeling,
So even the truth of true desperation is eroded into mere
Middle-class anxiety and the shallow, meaningless whimpers
Of an independent mind trapped in mediocrity by itself – hardly
A worthy subject for true artistic expression; however,
I am who I am made to be, so please excuse
Me if it takes me some time to transcend

I suck

“You suck”

This is the title of the only book I need for self help:
“One Hundred And One Ways To Destroy Yourself”
But lacking strength to attempt the attempt is the underminer --
I feel trapped in the design, even though I know the Lord’s not a designer,
But an artist; so possibly such beautifully stupid suffering
Is part of a much greater, more meaningful picture --
I certainly hope so, I just wanna be able to see it; my mind,
I just wanna be able to free it, for my soul’s
Sake; so please excuse me if I don’t return your ritualized greeting
And empty smile with the expected reaction -- I’ve got
No respect for the program, or the programmed;
And my vision reaches far beyond being content; the darkest,
Deepest gorge is the one between the potential and the story of how your life
Went

Subtract the latter from the former and ask yourself where the remainder went

There’s this *** named Dirk at work; the jerk
Jabbers jib ‘til I get berserk; with effeminate
Quips he flips and he flirts with the skirts --
Splurts words that irritate and invert; the tint
Of his nose? The color of dirt; a holler
Of his hurt at the slightest discomfort; hero:
Captain Kirk; favorite dessert: yogurt
Wet hair, fast walk, and a too-tight shirt
Dirk irks so I attempt to avert; he talks
About his new earring and how it didn’t hurt; up on
All the latest gossip, joins every concert of attempt
To reinvent what don’t matter and already works anyway;
He tells me ‘bout who is and who ain’t gay; away
I stray but he’s always like “Hey! How ya doin’
Today?” I think “Great, go away” but “Fine,
Dork, I mean, Dirk” is what I say
Yay

Hit him in the ***
Stick him in a backpack
Kick him in his ***
Smack him where his ***
Slap him like a slapjack
Push him ‘till he’s off track
Burn him ‘till he’s pitch black
Punch him ‘cuz it’s payback

Play him like a soundtrack
Poison him with sumac
Beat him ‘til he’s bushwhacked
Treat him like he smoke crack
Ship him on an Amtrak
Trip him ‘til he flashback
Slam him like a hatchback
Push him in a haystack

It doesn't matter
What you think or care to do; haven't you figured out
Now this is how its goin’ down or through? My way or the highway
Or the bye-way if you think you’re proof -- you dare to wear
My pants, the pair, the chair is where your teared in twos; your hair’s
Prepared for my pulls; you thinkin' there's some reason for
Discussion? Your wage is just my tip -- you keep it zipped or both
Your lips are gettin’ bust in; "You’re the man" is only heard
By me; you thinkin' that you’re no slave that's given pay,
A place to stay, with meager salary? S is for the stress
Your best’s contendin'; L is for the loot that you’re lended.
A's the grade you’re given for behavior that sends
The message that you’re ready-made for labor, V is for the value
Of the paper; E’s for everything you’re given to
Be simply nothin', or maybe what you’re earnin’ to be something;
False assumption -- It really doesn't matter 'cause it’s just the pattern
Of consumption: to give and take just what you’re wantin'

Prick him with a thumbtack
Hang him from a tie rack
Jab him with a coat rack
Stuff him down the wet stack
Burn him with a fry rack
Smack him like a wise crack
Tie him to the train track
Crush him with a Cadillac
Choke him with a Tic Tac
Scare him like a heart attack
Zip him in the backpack
Slice him with a weed wack
Hunt him like a wolf pack
Pound him ‘till his bones crack
Paint him blue and lilac
Pelt him with a hackisack
Strand him in the Outback
Strap him to the luggage rack
Gag him with a Big Mac
Blind him with a cataract
Knock him with a knick-knack
Bite him like a Count Drac
Hit him like a fullback
Work him like a field yak

Cash
Cars
Clothes
Hoes

I don’t understand it, do you?

I’m about to get dressed up and go bling bling,
And sell hopelessness to an entire culture of human
Beings -- my nation, my family, to an entire genre:
Puppet master, if you’re up there, I don’t mind ya
Cash, cars, clothes, and hoes; cash, cars, clothes,
And hoes – there’s four strings labeled cash, cars, clothes,
And hoes, but these strings I don’t notice anymore
I see my arms moving, but I don’t know what for
I used to be able to recognize the strings connected to
My wrist, but now I see my rolee plus the money clenched
Within my fist; I bob my knot to the beat like a child
With Downs Syndrome, sitting in the corner of
Whatever *** room; man, I don’t play the strings
‘Cause they play me; my mind is malnutritioned,
Manipulated, and not free, but its all okay
‘Cause I gots cash, cars, clothes, and hoes; it’s a lot
Easier following in a single row
Of lemmings injected with testosterone
Yellin’ “cash cars clothes and hoes” to the ocean
This little jiggy went to the show
This little jiggy stayed home
This little jiggy had cash cars clothes
And hoes while that little jiggy had none
And the other little jiggy got blinders
To remind her to not look around
And yet I follow right behind her -- I wouldn’t want to get lost
From the rest of the pack; cash, cars, clothes, and hoes
The way that I react

I’m violent like sudden displacement; get all
Up in your face treatment; erase taste is the ultimate intention of my heartfelt
Message attempt, so repent through the acceptance of the same
And the realization of the power of labels may readjust your mind frame
To a position of greater awareness of the nature of control
That’s on our minds -- the design is ultimately not a description
Of the genre, but an assignment of traits and limitation of potential
It’s eventually learned that before music was bought and sold there were
No labels; they’re false as a fable -- check my rhyme
If you’re able: The division of music into named types, i.e.
Rap, pop, country, R&B, or soul is an example of corporate control
To increase sales by creating easy consumer access
The idea is that you know exactly what you get before
You buy it; but I try to reverse it because this sales device puts
Art in a vice by making it necessary for music to fit in a particular
Description, or somehow it doesn’t fit when a work sounds different
From a so-called sound which is defined by a name which was unnecessarily
Invented with the aim of corporate profit
Stop it. I love hip-hop but will not
Be held down by it just so you’ll buy it

What’s wrong, what’s wrong, what’s wrong with this world?
I don’t understand it, do you?

Hey, that was pretty good

Well don’t stop now

Program loaded and ready

Yeah, there’s a lotta bad ism’s floatin’ around in this world, but one of the worst is commercialism – “make a buck, make a buck” – even in Brooklyn it’s the same: don’t care what Christmas stands for, just “make a buck, make a buck…”

I do not think you realize the gravity of your situation

I’m about to get dressed up and go bling-bling

Cool, I broke his brain

We’re all monkeys

It be like: I don’t love you hoes, I’m out the doe

The following program is intended for mature audiences

I know for sure I can do better than that

Uh-oh, here comes trouble

This is a place for crazy people. I’m not crazy.
We don’t use that term, “crazy,” Mr. Cole.
Well, you’ve got some real nuts here…

I have just created something totally illogical

Space camp; take ramp; pay
Stamp; my style’s on ya, yo, it stays amp
Blowin’ up like a bomb -- know its on,
Yo, it’s strong; yo, it’s gone long time is tickin’
And songs is flippin' and rhmyes is stickin’ and minds
Are stricken; find smitten lines of kittens, dimes I'm flippin’
And signs I'm fixin’; spline splittin', my kind’s liftin’,
The high's hittin’, and the highs gettin’ spread; go on,
Listen and glisten while my crime’s missions to climb fissions
And grind dictions; I slide friction, buy riches,
Send hitches to side dishes, and ride vicious;
My line kicks as my rhyme fixes to the pictures and shine
Scriptures; I pound pitches and drown in pitchers; liquor
Gets sicker than the figure that begins to quiz ya; give
The biz to lift the crib to listna's headquarters.

One day I was in orbit; talkin’ off the wall
***, thinkin’ ‘bout your mind, how many times I fooled
It and ruled it to be simple, straight lines; easy mathematical
Signs seemed to be blinded by the wise
So let me emphasize, space camp is where I lamp
In a trance -- if you wanna dance, we’ll take it to the mic
Stand, and any man who thinks he can battle me:
If you blink then you lose me, then never will you prove
Me to be false, I talk fast when the blast
Off is passed -- three, two, one, contact;
And then I breathe fast, furious, and foremost,
Facts that I discover when I’m chillin’ undercover;
Stop the search party ‘cuz you’ll never find
Another; whether warrior or lover, there is no other;
So I smother opposition from the throne with the within my system
Of the enigmatic, rawdadic acrobatic rhyme
Addict; addicted to the fire, free fallin’ failure --
Burnin’ up a plant, then I fly to my space camp