| If you not a myth, who’s reality are you?
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| If you not a myth, who’s reality are you?
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| I like to rap, I love rapping
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| Poets, poets, I’m a rapper myself
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| I’ma rap for y’all
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| Get the fuck out the way, brother, this some serious shit here
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| Surrounded by Anglos in Almelo, thinkin 'bout Amadou Diallo
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| Fit in like a shaman in Diablo, high note vibrato
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| Evening sense of Sonderweg
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| On Erowid, reading anecdotes about heroin, thinking of dead friends
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| Who gon' notify Google? |
| Schopenhauer fought ennui with poodles
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| Niggas been swindled, bamboozled by civility and menthol nicotine
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| I guess it’s getting to me, musical chairs with multiple identities
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| Neurosis generating energy, like how you lose focus looking for enemies
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| Nostrum Grocers got the remedy, ain’t no average MC ahead of me
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| They purse yankers who thirst danger, worship anger
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| Always clamoring for that artificial trap beat
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| Bro look like the leader of the Dothraki, steering from the backseat
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| Rarely at home, no, I don’t bump they poems
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| Reeking of charity porn, disparity worn like a letterman
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| Huh
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| Shit, y’all think I can’t do it
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| Listen to this shit
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| Slurps puttanesca, watching futanari
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| And it ain’t a rapper walking who could harm me
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| Slurps puttanesca, watching futanari
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| And it ain’t a rapper walking who could harm me (who could harm me)
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| Tucked under my tiny t-shirt, a Sennheiser
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| Acting out, undeserving of a humble brag
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| It’s simply me in my mansion of thumb tacks
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| Monsieur Baron de Holdback, wipes his hands of reality
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| And sets about creating new galaxies
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| Love letters never sent, but I’m angsty like you read it
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| My style like if Langston didn’t edit
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| Bro a globetrotter, lobe rotted from the pssh
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| Double clutching the mic, hollering for the operator, the audience sniggers
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| That’s one clever (that's one clever), that’s one clever (that's one clever)
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| You need a vessel to sail the River Styx
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| Ruby Yacht deliver complex messages simplest
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| You need a vessel to sail the River Styx
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| Ruby Yacht deliver complex messages simplest
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| You need a vessel to sail the River Styx
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| (You need a vessel)
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| Atop the high wall, Lord Mycroft at home
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| Sniper of pot, bald-headeds who roam too far from the city gates
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| Misery states dominance on humans, so I cease to be that
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| Living myth of the boom bap, living myth of the boom bap
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| Boom, boom, boom bap
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| Misery states dominance on humans, so I cease to be that
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| Living myth of the boom bap (ba-da boom, boom bap)
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| Look who’s hanging out with the Falcons
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| Just because you’re on top of a mountain
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| But what goes up, must come down, ho
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| They ain’t give a fuck about you four years ago
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| What you gonna do when it starts sinking?
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| Motherfucker, you’ll probably start drinking
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| Clip a bar of zingers, pulled the trigger with my booger finger
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| We into Guggenheim, hook, and line, and sinker
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| Brick wall applied physics for the mind and blunted thinker
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| Born in my mother’s city in my fatherland
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| Time become apparent in my other hand, Black Orpheus boogie man
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| How to rap with a hammer post-Scribble Jam
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| Rap generation, man, we in a rap generation
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| We had our generation, man, I used to have my generation |