New shit Im gonna be doing over here. Highlighting whats still the most important thing in this thing we call rap music, THE LYRICS. Yves Saint was nice enough to volunteer for the inaugural run. Here’s a song off of The Green Room EP, Not At All.
Do you fools listen to music or do you just skim through it?
I piss through my pores you bitch like a broad acknowledge my skin fluid
Im UTTERly skilled it begets milk, never that skim bullshit
Dont have a cow, I’ve already vowed, are you not convinced douches?
My muse is, Music, fused with, some hubris
It confuses accusers a rubix cube but he shoe fits. I gotta break them in
Breaking news is! I aint spitting,
To the snoozers: I been throwed Jim Crow leave a nuisance in noose
Niggas hanging from my balls and my pubics for hocking up mucous
Not saliva, much heavier, a sign of a medley of illnesses
Chill, shivers, stop nagging like little sisters
Cuz i brag about drilling sisters and my tag amount
Oh you can’t feel a buster?
Well imma wait it out, thats a fillibuster
And I ‘m spillin MUSTARD to be FRANK I RELISH the HEAT catch up (KETCHUP) ya DOG only getting PLUMPER
Im a BALL PARK figure, spitting ball park figures (diamonds)
And I park balls and a Ball Park (dick) in a broad jaw and Laurent not lyri-cal?
Cool, Im slicker than cod liver oil, smooth as a cola and dark liquor
I know both sides, Jedi-and SIth, yet I insist, dismiss I as myth, and dread I exist, upset I admit, but better I get
You’re just uniformed, sun/son in the form of his life
The sun/son isn’t warm its hot, just, far enough to sustain life
But, close enough to sun bathe, nice
Global warming a result of when sun/son raise what sun/son says to a new degree
Sun/sonrays hotter on average 2 or 3, fahrenheit now the terrified ‘scuse me
They reject me yes, can’t hide from my light they rub SPF (sun-block)
The likes of the white want nestle legs, can’t handle the real they invent these beds (tanning beds)
I got such a bad wrap/rap got blacks shunning sun/son, they’d rather LIGHTEN up like they never had ‘gnac <—*blacks that would rather be light-skinned a metaphor for blacks who dont bump me*
It’s dark and its heavy *both opposites of light*
Like “No. Uh, your arc’s embarkment is deadly.
Get me? Im Noah, my arc departs for the DEAD SEE
So they see red, regrettably, but I SEE SALT,
They detest me, for the SEA SALT I speak to yall to refresh thee
Lets be, real, I’m of it,
“OF” and “UV” I’m from it, the oven (sun), in O.F. (Original Fake) usually
I’m coming like bendies. Look it up!
Even got the hip hop snobs looking up
Over ya head like a book on Eliza Doolittle acquittal of all charges, “Not Guilty”
On all counts of not showing skill, please, hop off dill he’s really
The bees knees, the beast from the East show ease on the easel feel me?!?!