Lyrics Rare Form - Locksmith

Rare Form

The dynamic is gigantic, despite panic
I lie in a white hammock and write like I like Xanax
Bite of a slight manic
Depressing your light’s damaged
I strike with the left brain despite that I’m right-handed
And I fight, damn it, the life of a tribe bandit
That lies with the same type of spite that got Christ branded
God damn it, what kind of shit is he on
I can tell a buster by the structure of his genome
You see I speak on a whole other level
I expose the tail and rip the horns from the devil
Of course I’m a rebel, shit, more so than ever
My course flow will sever your whole torso whenever
I’m the motherfucking problem feeder
And if that nigga’s the best then I’m a goblin eater
Your aspirations will make you an apparation
Your lack of an occupation will have you in laceration
You’re wack, face it, you’re acting?, in fact I’m waitin
To strap you inside a strap and then slap you in affirmation
Pussy nigga don’t be tripping with a psycho
I’ma have your pussy dripping blood like a cycle
And I know I can only get so far
Plus I’m from the Bay so I’m stuck below those bars
And I know you think we all flow below par
But you gotta admit that I’m the sickest nigga so far
Oh lord, where the fuck did he come from?
Please don’t stick me in a box with these dum-dums
Um… and it’s not just fear
Shit, there’s wack niggas everywhere, not just here
And it’s not just queers, no problem, rock steady
But will Kanye please come out the closet already
For God’s sakes, it’s 2009
If you sorta like guys, just shout it, it’s fine
There’s no doubt in my mind that it was bound to happen any day
And I’m just saying what everybody’s thinking anyway
Anyway, you should laugh about it
See I take what I feel then I rap about it
I’m like Jackson Pollack, painting acts of violence
With an axe that’s polished, through a rapper’s knowledge
And in fact I promised, if I’m strapped for dollars
No matter what, I ain’t never going back to college
Fuck them, tuck them in the ground, no hesitation
I don’t need a docile version of education
My sedadation is war, my medication is metaphor
When I spit niggas often beg for more
I’m not a whore, I understand that less is more
Lyrically tested boy, bore your flesh and more
Take your frontal lobe, press it in like a dresser drawer
This is what you call HipHop in its rarest form