Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Crayon Sharpener, artist - Themselves. Album song Them, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 31.12.1998
Record label: anticon
Song language: English
Crayon Sharpener |
Right off the bat… irregular's my first disclaimer… |
Second’s…what once was rap’s always changing… this frame of |
Reckons the next basis for improvement… and that’s about it… |
Unless stasis snatches movement to latch a crowded |
Skinner’s box, chop… chop…there's ideas to have… |
Bigger shock… a lot stops… |
Must you be in a lab to feel part of advancement? |
You real art love ain’t a chance in |
Any faith’s hell, they’re not tempered the same… |
If you can’t tell the preaching is not why I came… |
Just throwing facts and figures out there… catch… |
On give back… be bigger share… match |
My mutually exclusive with your collectively exhaustive… |
Truthfully stupid is more a perspective. |
we’ll |
Lost it in unison… unison…you've become |
A work in process… a process… an odd test is process… ahh yes… |
Show me a prehensile tail is not your style homie… |
The mental well… has no dial |
Pressure gauge, favorite spot physiologically… |
Say has anybody got exact change for camaraderie… |
You… could it be you… could it be you… you…could it be… no |
Then humble it is… every able axis grab an oar… go fumble with |
Ideas since prenatal practice… I'll step ashore… |
Just leave the maps, money, and chewing gum behind, peace |
You’ll be back harmony is just that um… kind |
Of gross enduring a lonely open flame |
Enjoys less in the absence of fine company |
There’s always room for one more where the ceiling’s drip well |
Put and walls crawl with forethought… have a seat… |
On what looks to be… is it a floor… wrong |
It’s not just a beckoning light in a young blood’s present |
Darkest future, but a culture… |
For a darkest future we’ve bled culture… |
Acid vigor, human error and little white lies… |
That’s what MCs are made of… |
Bluntly, our pain and slab nativity scene’s infested… |
Ugly’s got it by the horns, so lovely |
Gets molested molding hardship from tragedy |
Splendid way of thanks giving we’ve |
Perfected dastardly to watch our backs disgusting practically |
Spared no expense at all in rapidly |
Rusting out our roots and groove potential forelorned… |
Nothing surprises me anyhow… rude of me… shucks |
You people seem nice, just look at those smiles… |
And that’s not the half of what it does for those |
Who thrive to its influence, nodding heads |
As hard as hearts can stand |
Pure prudence, lovers of lyric and construction |
Know this wonderland makes running a mill more bearable… |
I.e. |
hype releases make weeks |
Poor one’s make laughs hysterical |
«music's my life, man» is some lame ass understatement of a force |
No clever contraption of words could ever contract |
Or conserve into some digestible scrap |
Indispensable is rap’s ties to you and eye’s |
Wrack minds of the observant |
Wash back and the lace air of cipher with |
That comparable most wonderful thing on earth… |
Breeze of keen and opportunity… |
Astonished full of all but… daily tomfoolery’s |
Been proven clinically… |
A best time to… hmmm…let's see… train the pallet… jel |
Please faze your gallant composure through |
My altered statement of why any censor’s power’s feeble… |
We’ll handle ours if you do your evil… |
Angles a long shot impossible and pisses off simple moms of drones |
Protecting their happy homes |
From back rows at church… truth hurts… |
Come on now… slide me a seat in the senate and see how tolerance works… |
I meant it’s awful easy to condemn and never been attempted… |
Take unity for demonstration purposes… |
So in the end, my extra-righteous tirade services |
Only the colossal unjust of our juxtaposition… |
And glorifies how deep blank runs… sickened… |
That’s a apropos… since we are what we overcome… |
On a rock where fruits of labor are sold… |
Although I do believe it’s pronounced soul… |