Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Release, artist - Blackalicious. Date of issue: 29.04.2002
Song language: English
Release |
| Release |
| Release |
| Release |
| Prevalent melanin elephant bailin' |
| And carrying sedatives that’ll give average lettermen callouses |
| Wrecking with savageness, catalyst |
| Battling rappers’ll stagger right after the dagger is left in it |
| Cherish this caliber (Release) Atticus |
| Shatter your algebra with calculus (give it up) |
| Damage your patterns I’m pounding you so fabulous (give it up) |
| Enough is enough is enough and I’m busting up outta this shell |
| An eruption that ruptures your structure to fuck with you (Release) |
| Up in ya gut, you a costumer |
| Huffing and puffing, discussing absolutely nothing, disgusting me |
| Plus infinity’s up in me rushing your country percussion |
| No wonder you’re struck in the boundaries |
| Wake up if you’re lunging, I’m something, you’re nothing (Release) |
| Now come see me grunting |
| I’m hunting for what emcees want |
| And I’m stomping my foot through your armies |
| They couldn’t have stopped me with shotties |
| Oddity, why did he, why do these entire societies inside of societies |
| And survivors still remain alive (Release) emcees |
| Thriving to flow, opting to go |
| Five hundred and fifty-five syllables to go |
| Split em' with the subliminal intentional digital pro |
| Unlimited flows unriveted, inhibited, visited |
| Now you can’t get rid of it like (Release) what is this |
| This magnificent, intimate, inner wit, in a minute finna be antonyms |
| In it with a gig, big fat heads like eggs Benedict |
| Pigs lick shit, rip with words and abysmal energy |
| It’s time I (destroy the beast, release) |
| Inner breathlessness, outer restlessness |
| By the time I caught up to freedom I was out of breath |
| Grandma asked me what I’m running for |
| I guess I’m out for the same thing the sun is sunning for |
| What mothers birth their youngens for |
| And some say Jesus coming for |
| For all I know the earth is spinning slow |
| Suns at half mast cause masses ain’t aglow |
| On bended knee, prostrate before an altered tree |
| I’ve made the forest suit me |
| Tables and chairs |
| Papers and prayers |
| Matter versus spirit |
| A metal ladder |
| A wooden cross |
| A plastic bottle of water |
| A mandala encased in glass |
| A spirit encased in flesh |
| Sound from shaped hollows |
| The thickest of mucus released from heightened passion |
| A man that cries in his sleep |
| A truth that has gone out of fashion |
| A mode of expression |
| A paint splattered wall |
| A carton of cigarettes |
| A bouquet of corpses |
| A dying forest |
| A nurtured garden |
| A privatized prison |
| A candle with a broken wick |
| A puddle that reflects the sun |
| A piece of paper with my name on it |
| I’m surrounded |
| I surrender |
| All |
| All that I am I have been |
| All I have been has been a long time coming |
| I am becoming all that I am |
| The spittle that surrounds the mouth-piece of the flute |
| Unheard, yet felt |
| A gathered wetness |
| A quiet moisture |
| Sound trapped in a bubble |
| Released into wind |
| Wind fellows and land merchants |
| We are history’s detergent |
| Water soluble, light particles, articles of cleansing breath |
| Articles amending death |
| These words are not tools of communication |
| They are shards of metal |
| Dropped from eight story windows |
| They are waterfalls and gas leaks |
| Aged thoughts rolled in tobacco leaf |
| The tools of a trade |
| Barter’s bard, barb of barters |
| Catch phrases and misunderstandings |
| But they are not what I feel when I am alone |
| Surrounded by everything and nothing |
| And there isn’t a word or phrase to be caught |
| A verse to be recited |
| A mantra to fill my being in those moments |
| I am blankness, the contained center of an «O» |
| The pyramidic containment of an «A» |
| I stand in the middle of all that I have learned |
| All that I have memorized |
| All that I’ve known by heart |
| Unable to reach any of it |
| There is no sadness |
| There is no bliss |
| It is a forgotten memory |
| A memorable escape route that only is found by not looking |
| There, in the spine of the dictionary the words are worthless |
| They are a mere weight pressing against my thoughtlessness |
| But then, who else can speak of thoughtlessness with such confidence |
| Who else has learned to sling these ancient ideas |
| Like dead rats held by their tails |
| So as not to infect this newly oiled skin |
| I can think of nothing heavier than an airplane |
| I can think of no greater conglomerate of steel and metal |
| I can think of nothing less likely to fly |
| There are no wings more weighted |
| I too have felt a heaviness |
| The stare of man guessing at my being |
| Yes I am homeless |
| A homeless man making offerings to the after-future |
| Sculpting rubber tree forests out of worn tires and shoe soles |
| A nation unified in exhale |
| A cloud of smoke |
| A native pipe ceremony |
| All the gathered cigarette butts piled in heaps |
| Snow covered mountains |
| Lipsticks smeared and shriveled |
| Offerings to an afterworld |
| Tattoo guns and plastic wrappers |
| Broken zippers and dead eyed dolls |
| It’s all overwhelming me, oak and elming me |
| I have seeded a forest of myself |
| Little books from tall trees |
| It matters not what this paper be made of |
| Give me notebooks made of human flesh |
| Dried on steel hooks and nooses |
| Make uses of use, uses of us |
| It’s all overwhelming me, oak and elming me |
| I have seeded a forest of myself |
| Little books from tall trees |
| On bended knee |
| Prostrate before an altered tree |
| I’ve made the forest suit me |
| Tables and chairs |
| Papers and prayers |
| Matter vs. spirit. |
| Through meditation |
| I program my heart to beat breakbeats and hum basslines on exhalation |
| (Release) |
| (Release) |
| (Release) |
| The heaven-sent benevolent medicine man reverend |
| Peddling deliverance that resemble amphetamines to |
| The residents in the meadow of pestilence |
| Who developed a chemical dependence on pessimism, now |
| Is he is, or is he ain’t |
| The most distinctive speaker seeping through your sleepy speakers |
| Yes he is, oh, yes indeed |
| So distinguished, so close some people think he’s half |
| Ain’t no secret, people, trust me it’s mostly hustling |
| That moves me upstream but just focus on the unseen |
| Boasting and fussing, they both so unproductive |
| Suppose it go in my blood stream, Let me pose this question |
| Ask anybody, that’s anybody |
| They’ll tell you that the antibody to the petty |
| Potty mouth gossiping is |
| Success at something, to be the best at something |
| And not to stress the dumb shit, 'cause you ain’t missing nothing |
| You got to |
| Motivate, accelerate, never wait, know your weight, throw away hate |
| Grow and make weight of your older days |
| Elevate, concentrate, get your focus straight, aim, orchestrate fate |
| Just motivate, accelerate, never wait, show the way, no escape |
| Take hold and shift shape, live a longer day |
| Elevate, concentrate, get your focus straight, aim, orchestrate fate |
| Astrologists, colleges follow this through the metropolis |
| The dominant brown bomber, I’m in it, being prominent |
| Walking it mean, talking it, clean the scene, stalking it |
| Volcanic, got ya’ll panicking, false canyon |
| And always all day outlandish bandits |
| Be slandering what we mastering cause they can’t catch us |
| They all pray for our downfall, maybe one day, sike! |
| You never get no balance if you’re crooked so play right, snake |
| I’m mongoosin' on you, stormtroopin' through your form |
| bar none oncoming, onslaught |
| On one chopping you, I’ll tomahawk, trauma hawk |
| Long running champ and rocking shit 'till I’m gone |
| You’re a Tom Thumb and I’m King Kong Bundy strong |
| Thunder all summer long, keep on coming dawn |
| Dusk, night, morning I’ll bust tight poems |
| Raw, just mic zoning ya’ll with the right mode of motivation |
| Motivate, accelerate, never wait, know your weight, throw away hate |
| Grow and make weight of your older days |
| Elevate, concentrate, get your focus straight, aim, orchestrate faith |
| Just motivate, accelerate, never wait, show the way, no escape |
| Take hold and shift shape, live a longer day |
| Elevate, concentrate, get your focus straight, aim, orchestrate faith |