1. |
atlas shrugging.
05:02
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[Verse 1]
I've been struggling for quite a while...
Wrote too many songs for ghosts, the wrong approach
I think I need a dance, a biscuit, and a throng of hoes
I gotta lie to you... until I have the longest nose, which I'll poke into the rap business, because being a real boy ain't shit when Geppetto has control, my pedal mash the flo', ho
I been had drive, been had heart, been had mind, blind fuck
You think I have a Guy Fawkes mask on, must be anonymous
Me and my whole crew: The Legion of Forgotten Fucks
In the face of gimmicky competition, a finicky audience, and Kevin Gates nom-nom-nom-nom-nomming butt
Too referential? Too late?
Touché, but you ignore material that ain't
So I'm either Walter Mitty, White, or Whitman
Whatever gets me listeners and attention
"Confused brown kid, drowned in his influence"
Probable internet review, but there's ten students somewhere in the world who's lives I saved brooding over beats I stole, so I don't know
You tell me my worth, you tell me why I'm hurt
And I'll keep tearing at my soul
[Hook]
This is the Struggleverse, I am the cartographer
I can show you 'round this place, I don't know the way outta hurr'
This is the Struggleverse, I am the cartographer
I know secret passageways, I don't know the way outta hurr'
[Verse 2]
Bitch, you guessed it
You was right, I'm an amorphous blob, trying to fit an archetype
My skin is dark light, I'm the rap Mark Price
You want me in a category; I find that rather boring
The dark matter's pouring out of my skin holes
Heart inkier than pen holes, rap's a pinhole
Forward slash thread; I'm half-dead, and it's hard-fitting in so I made my own knitting tools
Fuck your itty bitty rules, I'm The Itsy Bitsy Spider
Fuck whoever’s rain it is, this is my hood, I'm Daniel Tiger, minus the cardigan, add glasses and a scowl
But keep my pants off cause I'm extremely well-endowed
You frown at the rap trope, but seeing is believing
If I was a Crip, I'd kill myself promptly upon bleeding
That was commentary on the concept of loyalty
I ride for my friends, play them if you're ignoring me
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2. |
death march.
04:45
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[Verse 1]
Accumulate raps; turn them into records that’ll pretty girls to your pecker, plus, money to your bank account so you can start making out a check or money order to your folks for all of that bad weather
Your last effort left you in a ditch that you woke up in next to a platform for the hype train
You wanna drive yourself to fame, but you don’t have a car, so now you have to buy a ticket
Ribbit; this is really none of my business
I just want an iced tea with a lemon
In Target for jeans, and the women in the aisle keep staring
Yes, lady, I’m thriftin’
But while he’s shoppin’, watch ‘em
He gon’ make it from a bus stop to that Datsun
He got that ambition, idiot, but avert your eyes
Keep your ideals close, find your perfect guy, ‘cause I’m... searching for the perfect imperfection
Hurt myself deadlifting the weight of the task
I need a sight for sore arms
I need you to like this moron
[Hook]
Yes, I do have last words... (HARUM)
No, I don’t have the password... (HARUM)
Yes, I do think I’m absurd... (HARUM)
No, I didn’t read the chapter... (HARUM)
Yes, I haven’t gotten past her... (HARUM)
No, I do think I attack her... (HARUM)
Yes, I don’t own a Mac, sir... (HARUM)
No, this is a Hewlett-Packard... (HARUM)
But what’s it matter, dead folk don’t chatter, please shut up when you’re talking to me...
Pitter patter, where I’m going, ain’t no ladder, so I doubt you’re really walking with me...
[Verse 2]
A dark aura
I do not have time to sit here and watch Nick and Norah
Got an infinite playlist of everyone’s two cents
Different file formats, bit rates, click bait, no matter which way I look
Can’t remember how many sick days I took
My memory’s faulty now... using RAM is costly now
Tossing out Tinder, switching in Snagajob
It’s time to move up from a Padawan
I maxed out the stats on the vagabond class
I wanna be a sorcerer; Rich Homie Quan Chi
I promise I will never stop going into these portals to Earthrrealm, and analyzing code to find out what spawned me
I am Al Simmons, in Hell’s Kitchen, pulling TV dinners out of the oven without mittens
I’m dorm room hardened, too proud to beg your pardon
Unabashedly spitting nerd jargon
My professors all think I’m retarded, I’m fine with it
As long as I get signed with this
Fragile ego, this isn’t a male thing
Regardless, the gender system keeps failing
No, I don’t want a pronoun
Those in a P.O.P. continue to hold down all of us
It’s a glorified pimp squad
And that makes us hoes with a bent gauge
We don’t know the pressure we can exert
Ignoring what heals, only seeing what hurts
That must be why I still think about her jerking him off; a handjob to Señor FatCock
I can’t stop
I must win, so the only thing grinding harder than me is my motherfucking laptop
[Hook]
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3. |
note to self.
02:54
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[Verse 1]
I'm an impostor... of what, I don't know
I feel like a monster... evil I won't show because I call myself being cute to academics and macadamias
They both probably think I'm a bozo
Can't escape the word "pretentious"
I heard it mentioned, and I scoffed
I hate when words live on a buzz... all the sobering ones end up lost
I think about the word "discouraged", and I'm reminded this is a half-court shot in the dark, and I'm blinded
It's more like full-court, but fools sport optimism that they did not earn
This cynicism got learned
98% of my discography is nocturnes
Tried to cremate hopelessness, it would not burn
I can't just usher in a new attitude
Too much I have to prove, though I assume you won't care...
[Hook]
I still taste echoes...
They said they are dead, though...
[Verse 2]
I should marry that industrial dancer from the Vines, and we can do that dance to this song a hundred times
What am I but a bitter ex and an idiot
Hideous; [my] ballskin looks like Darth Sidious
Really, this is sidestepping the hurt for the silliness
In 2012, my shoulder was the chilliest
But now, due to global warming, I am sporting a sun-stained smile for these employers I am courting
Now my appeals to pathos are boring
And nobody will honestly believe I'm in mourning
I rebounded like Alonzo, just to get called fake by a Gonzo journalist
I'm murderous
Still refusing to be smart with my purchases
Every song is me shooting darts at worthlessness, tryina' tranquilize the fucking thing
Never hit the bullseye, so this song is a cruddy thing
But...
[Hook]
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4. |
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[Verse 1]
California burrito and a smile, being idle, ignoring idols, flying high
I might buy a Cruiserweight Title replica
I'm above writing raps in Helvetica
I made a typeface; I grew a language
I destroyed your galaxy, cause in it, Pokémon was real, Erika dealt grass, Brock ran a brothel in Pewter
Etcetera
I think it's time I hold the pair I grew
I'm not scared of you, I built a lair for truth
Quite frankly, the Klaus Baudelaire of the booth, which is actually a bedroom for two
I caught the dorm room blues, but today is a good day
All the symptoms are in sedation
Frustrations tucked away like grades when you know that C is gonna make your dad peeved, so...
[Hook]
Bury that depression in your bookbag
Appear good even when your soul looks bad
Be brave in the face of uncertainty
Behave in public and show courtesy
Build a moat, and fill that thang' with Haterade
Address worry and save for peace for later days
We gon' build sum'n nice today
We gon' build sum'n nice today
[Verse 2]
The faint of heart cry in mason jars, and I sip coolly
Cruelly, I took candy from a baby, and replaced it with a mic to encourage the youth to speak out about their plight
Reverse psychology; orchestrated rebellion
Angel-fy the hellions, hell-ify the Melvins
Smash televisions, kick start revolutions
This is not a drill, it's Chiraq's solution
I feel like the arbiter of the universe
I'ma have to ask haters to disperse, this is a "no flex without representation" zone
Tell Rich Gang pay us what they owe
I want racks of brain cells and a brick of Blow Pops
How many licks for respect on O-Block?
Roll that Tootsie for a scholar
Holler if you heard me on a song and gained a new power
[Hook]
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5. |
void.
02:14
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[Verse]
Ridin’ down the interstate on a bus, mental health on a crutch, subjects I don’t wanna touch
... Nonetheless, they get molested; fondled, disrespected; entered without protection
I... need to figure out why I keep doing this
Public model citizen; To myself? I’m a hooligan...
I've been vandalized
Spray-painting obscenities by this candlelight
I’m a Gremlin, sittin' in the shower until I feel schizophrenic
Mind multiplies, splits up, then dies
And I wonder why, like the scary movie trope didn't warn me a million times
But then again, it's all futile
Cry into your bowl of Lime Chicken ramen noodles...
You know, cause that's the nastiest flavor
Then dump that bowl on all your sassiest haters...
Suburbia consists of taco dinner kits and makeshift basketball courts owned by the white kid with the bigger sis... that's mega cute, but she’s scared of your nigger lips
What’s the point of this?
You could find one, but settle on the pointlessness
You’ve been here before, it’s all familiar
Standing on the edge of tomorrow
Eat, fap, repeat, then go to sleep in the bed of your sorrow...
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6. |
[bonus.] melt.
02:56
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[Verse 1]
I’ll end up forgotten
I’ll be okay with that, and I’ll eat candied cotton
Don’t even like it, but I’m living, and I don’t like that either, so why take a breather?
Neither you or I have an answer to repeated procedure
I have a pet Porygon, and it keeps giving me seizures
I won't get rid of it, though
It’s more like cigarette smoke
Not bad, just a byproduct of it...
I sorta love it
[Hook]
Windows up, doors locked, on the hottest day
Dozing off into the feelings that I lock away
Content to be poorly represented
Content that you ignore me, never mentioned, never listened to, I'm feeling you, I get it
I'm a plaza of scattered intention
I'd rather have a platter than smidgens
Is that too much to ask for?
Am I too much of something you did not ask for?
[Verse 2]
I miss Club River Run and the pseudo-independence
Listening to Hellfyre Club when I was emotionally winded
Excess spendin’... on fast food
Roommate-induced bad moods...
It’s hard not to romanticize
There was peace in not having my naps analyzed
Back at my parents' house, starin’ out a window
It was all good just a month ago, I’m uncomfortable
From homework to home-cooked meatloaf
Both are equally poor, but one could be ignored
My goodness, I took for granted how I soared through those quaint dorms like a demented, male Storm
What a maelstrom; I was blue like Selsun
Frantically trying to prepare for when Cell comes
And now he’s here...
I coulda' been someone
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