| From here on out I’m grabbing these rappers by their fates
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| And throwing their destinies out into that lake
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| And as the earth shakes, and as the snakes eat
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| I found my birth place on top of that breakbeat
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| The beat breaks while I drink a Red Stripe to get my head right
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| Maybe put some life into this dead mic
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| You fuckers got nerve, you’re lost between mold and the mildew
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| If you spit that verse with bullets and tits, I wouldn’t feel you
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| This plant can’t grow without the nurture and nutrients
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| So on I carry between the Aryans and Nubians (come together)
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| Holding a handful of that Minnesota pork
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| And if I ever blow up, I wanna fuck Bjork (you know my stink)
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| Let it rain, let it rain, let the water run off of the brain
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| Let the drops hit my shoulders and leave permanent stains
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| Let one solo drip touch my heart and symbolize what it contains
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| Restrain these thoughts that stay locked in my dark side
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| Let the bumper hit the pavement, pull away and let the sparks fly
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| Let the children have reason to laugh
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| Instead of needing to craft ways and passages to see their last days
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| As far as me and water animals are concerned are infantile
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| Past obliterating, great life on a scale, chorus boy
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| See if you died trying the diabetics
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| Bet if me and you had to breathe the same oxygen, you’d choke
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| And foam comes out your headphones
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| And little men in black would scurry around and jump on dicks saying
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| «Yo champ, keep the heads noddin'», I keep heads still
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| Steal moments from opponents walking a fine fabric in time
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| Between Nietzsche and Ice Cube
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| Fuck all of ya’ll, never like any of ya’ll in the first place
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| Punch face, dickhead, step on foot, burn bridge
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| Rape, pillage, take money
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| I saw your scribbles in the back of your last release, ha ha, funny
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| You bring your marbles, I’ll bring mine
|
| When our egos and balls collide, you’ll have some pre-written battle rhymes
|
| But no, everything is cool, cold, icey, happy, glamorous
|
| Let’s all drink Zima and sing 'We Are The World'
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| I am the world, where I am a whirlpool where all these fools get killed
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| Kilogram to your ass, and you bitch made like a quilt
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| Yeah I can drop down and meander with Neanderthals and jelly fish
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| The revolutionary evolutionist, let me be the tooth fairy
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| Cause when it comes down to bitin', I make damn sure everyone gets royalties
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| And rock Parliament beats instead of Jel’s tracks
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| Shit, if I ever gave a fuck, I gave it away a long time ago
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| Only time will tell, in due time and do time until it’s over
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| The pair of me see my parables, paragraphs and emcee favorite tongue
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| The world is my stage, and stage presence for everyone
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| Let it rain, let it rain
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| Let the gutter be the book you never wrote
|
| Let the bottle be the drawbridge and moat
|
| All this is soaked in the deep depths of Dynamics
|
| All we ask is two ears and a planet
|
| Developed materialist presented for your listening pleasure
|
| Quadruple phonetic spitters in two by ten measures
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| Profess my confession
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| I longed for this profession presently here
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| This art form ain’t accessible
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| For those who want to hear us
|
| Interlock hands through a sound and tape device through a filter
|
| Constructing of percussion, rhythm sections, painstakingly built are
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| (Infectious) totally overwhelming to soul and body
|
| (It's the Holy Ghost!) making you physical structure appear quite shoddy
|
| (Disassembling) slowly pick apart your sound taste
|
| (Deconstructing) jotted the four across the wall your forced to face
|
| And conclude that your thirst is quenched by Deep Puddles
|
| «Ayo this shit is dope!», but our conversation to you is subtle
|
| You gotta hit that R-E-W when the fading commences
|
| Your index extensions of your hand constantly tenses
|
| Approximately every five minutes you will repeat this motion
|
| Over and over until your mind’s convinced of this notion
|
| «Dynamics, I understand, and I pledge alliegance
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| To your music for advanced listeners covering many regions
|
| And as far as I’m concerned, this group is number one
|
| And who knew that using my brain could be so much fun»
|
| Four, count them, one, two, three, seven, four
|
| Pleasantly demented stock riders a few folds short of a paper airplane |
| Decided to sit ingrain, paint their faces and be leaves
|
| Light green, turned upside down in the wind
|
| Finally, someone to clap for, this toxic hermit grins
|
| Especially men who look the globe over and back
|
| Scratch, fizzlin' a balmy sky, it’s time
|
| If you live in the cosmos, milky way style
|
| Say it like I mean it, to ease my hard head
|
| And to where have you been my whole life, c’mon guys
|
| Let’s play the sap, shoot branch, off, shoot branch
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| But «hee hee hee» giggle the children
|
| Who’s shot? |
| Hands folded, pencils sharpened
|
| Waiting patiently for quality birdseed
|
| And really cool camp counselors who know lots of big words
|
| Once in a while it’s fun to be smart
|
| And play with matches on the dark side of the-Whoa!
|
| Cock bang, young drummer get wicked
|
| Smaller rock, and the larger ones all but confused
|
| So with the prostitutes or platypuses
|
| And grandparents, fine by me
|
| I’m a hydrogen molecule and proud of it
|
| Let it rain, let it rain, let it rain, let it rain, let it rain
|
| Let it rain, let it rain, let it rain, let it rain, let it rain
|
| Let the gutter be the book you never wrote
|
| Let the bottle be the drawbridge and moat
|
| All this is soaked in the deep depths of Dynamics
|
| All we ask is two ears and a planet
|
| Deep Puddle Dynamics
|
| All I ever want |