I was erased in a lab fade on stage in the grave; I made shapes of tidal waves on
the wall of my cave
I'm a pulsar, black star, way dark, I'm the killer in the park
I breathe sparks, unique like a river of heat to deliver the beat
I tripped the catch on a different batch; I'm here to serenade you from my little cage
as the worlds degrade
I'm here to drop meta-bombs on your lap like a real gone megaton man who can
rap right over the heads of the cheque-paying guests
They're shaking hands with heads of state and doing "Cribs" to show us all how
much money they make
They got some beats and some riffs hooked up but it sounds fake, dropped a lot of
noise on the kids but it carries no weight
You think you're on side, f*** you son, stand by my side, not you son
Paint a line where they fall, the memories inside us all
Cause and effect, degrees of indirect words phasing while you're praising the child,
it started in truth, got lost in lies, the sweetness lost in her eyes, drifting balloon in
leaden skies, her thoughts and her words are paralysed. You walk a long time, on
this long road, walk alone and your spirit's low. See how your life is sucking down,
nobody wants to hurt you now
All of your light, your brightest rays, only served to illuminate the bars of our cage,
only ever showed us where the words leave the page
The footprints end and now we're on our own again
Yes my mic rockingness is legendary, very well equipped emissary of the art form,
MCs otherwise empty
Clerics and luminaries declaim but can't reach these, monologues lengthy,
stratospheric levels and travels beyond the scene
Other MCs to me are, well, just elementary, if I didn't exist well then you'd have to
invent me
I'm in the next century, beyond this essentially; in fact I endlessly polymorph
relentlessly
White streams of light beams reach from my teeth like real life milk white tentacles
I s***e walk while my contemporaries languish in the air-lock, I care not if you get
me
f*** your Benz's and your Humvee's, I'm empty
I'm void like Fisher Price toy mic, I joyride the tracks made or foresight, OBE; ghost
in the scent of fresh cordite
Paint a line where they fall, the memories inside us all
All of your light, your brightest rays, only served to illuminate the bars of our cage,
only ever showed us where the words leave the page
The footprints end and now we're on our own again
the wall of my cave
I'm a pulsar, black star, way dark, I'm the killer in the park
I breathe sparks, unique like a river of heat to deliver the beat
I tripped the catch on a different batch; I'm here to serenade you from my little cage
as the worlds degrade
I'm here to drop meta-bombs on your lap like a real gone megaton man who can
rap right over the heads of the cheque-paying guests
They're shaking hands with heads of state and doing "Cribs" to show us all how
much money they make
They got some beats and some riffs hooked up but it sounds fake, dropped a lot of
noise on the kids but it carries no weight
You think you're on side, f*** you son, stand by my side, not you son
Paint a line where they fall, the memories inside us all
Cause and effect, degrees of indirect words phasing while you're praising the child,
it started in truth, got lost in lies, the sweetness lost in her eyes, drifting balloon in
leaden skies, her thoughts and her words are paralysed. You walk a long time, on
this long road, walk alone and your spirit's low. See how your life is sucking down,
nobody wants to hurt you now
All of your light, your brightest rays, only served to illuminate the bars of our cage,
only ever showed us where the words leave the page
The footprints end and now we're on our own again
Yes my mic rockingness is legendary, very well equipped emissary of the art form,
MCs otherwise empty
Clerics and luminaries declaim but can't reach these, monologues lengthy,
stratospheric levels and travels beyond the scene
Other MCs to me are, well, just elementary, if I didn't exist well then you'd have to
invent me
I'm in the next century, beyond this essentially; in fact I endlessly polymorph
relentlessly
White streams of light beams reach from my teeth like real life milk white tentacles
I s***e walk while my contemporaries languish in the air-lock, I care not if you get
me
f*** your Benz's and your Humvee's, I'm empty
I'm void like Fisher Price toy mic, I joyride the tracks made or foresight, OBE; ghost
in the scent of fresh cordite
Paint a line where they fall, the memories inside us all
All of your light, your brightest rays, only served to illuminate the bars of our cage,
only ever showed us where the words leave the page
The footprints end and now we're on our own again