| Dropped to no reception
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| Empty exhibition white walls silence deafening
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| Negative space stretching
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| The internet every couple seconds refreshing
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| The same couple mentions
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| Merch boxes in the closet
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| Out-of-sight-out-of-mind but paid outta pocket
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| Couple friends at ya show them other niggas got a mosh pit
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| Day job in the morning just the thought makes me nauseous
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| (Open Mike Eagle)
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| Don’t put me with the rottweilers
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| Walk me in with the show dogs
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| Fool, I’m Nikita Koloff
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| So committed I never break character
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| Forget the fucking marketplace
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| I’m an installation, now where’s my carpet space
|
| Jerk this lever, click my media
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| Do my own cuts, wik-wik-Wikipedia
|
| (Elucid)
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| 10 curated commandments
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| Lessons live from the Schomburg
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| Critic acclaim Hard earned
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| Full body knob turns
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| Enthralled blond birds
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| Hypnotized like Farnsworth
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| Milquetoast served by futurists in pom pom skirts
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| Fog Smoke and mirrors Give em something to talk about
|
| Lukewarm rap wizard behind the curtain be fizzled out
|
| Far from the source
|
| The isolationist
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| Close Shave against the grain
|
| Came full circle but what he saying?
|
| (Busdriver)
|
| Observe the piece to right of me
|
| Completed in the late nineteen hundreds
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| It saw no praises from contemporaries
|
| And generally had all the enlightened flummoxed
|
| It cradled notions of art as crime
|
| And developed wildly, set apart from time
|
| But when buyers make decisions along the party lines
|
| So harvest mine, they tarnish your shine
|
| Hang like a varmints behind
|
| (Woods)
|
| Bottled mineral water live sampling bird calls
|
| Back to the audience brass on the balls
|
| Politiely inquired as to the loot
|
| The Talented Mr. Smalls notwitstanding
|
| Trailer to the video on Vimeo
|
| Grandstanding
|
| Instagrammed Wired covers got me backstage
|
| Gladhanding
|
| If you can sing a lil something might soften the landing
|
| Have the fans American Bandstand dancing
|
| (Elucid)
|
| Murse ratchet
|
| Flanked by wing dykes u can’t hack it
|
| Bass akwards
|
| Short of cult classic With kings Rations
|
| Voted Most consistently average
|
| Big budget mastering
|
| Squandered passion
|
| Pump action but still banging flaccid
|
| NPR think pieces
|
| Ex conscious rappers laid Out to pasture
|
| Blowhard circle jerkers chatter
|
| Broad strokes from hands of irrelevant self described masters
|
| Fractured patterns
|
| Crooked paths to look back and laugh at
|
| (Open Mike Eagle)
|
| Wish I could eat offa brownie points
|
| Who’s the next messiah the spectacled crowd anoints
|
| Put my dirty drawers in the glass cases
|
| Make gasfaces at typos and backspaces
|
| Get it right the first time
|
| Micromanaging this class of interns
|
| Hire docents to meet the required quotient
|
| And keep your greasy fingers off my Kraftwerk
|
| (Woods)
|
| Sip cafe-au-lait kaffiyeh, hoodie and tims
|
| Knightsbridge pied-a-terre, friends of friends
|
| Split through prescription lens
|
| Richard Wright in Paris status
|
| Damn right I wear my sunglasses at night
|
| Hobbesian Savage
|
| Egg white omelet carmelized shallots
|
| Stockholm Syndrome
|
| Cote de Rhone cleanse the palate
|
| Checking account check the balance
|
| Shelltoes and rope gold all he told the stylist
|
| Bitter like old-timers when they hear that looped soul behind us
|
| (Busdriver)
|
| Murky depictions of dead pigeons
|
| Given red ribbons at the local gallery opening
|
| I gasp at the earnings of a Cold Chillin'
|
| Even though I’m supposed to be sold for millions
|
| Cause I’m more Jesse Owens than Owen Wilson
|
| Cold chilling
|
| On a placinated cell wall Bell Palsy body language
|
| My deadened gaze is a tell all
|
| And I’m not art, until I’m seen here
|
| Sentenced for killing every turn of phrase during my teen years |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song New Museum , by - Armand Hammer. Song from the album Race Music, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп