Highs and lows like ozone, I'm in my own zone.
Anachronism like a home phone, I'm so stoned.
Attached to rhythm,
metronome,
took the metro home.
Commuters look to chrome metal zone.
Computed and diluted, all clones, all alone.
Off minds, online, just waiting to be known.
Hey yo, I ain't retweeting *.
I don't give a damn.
Y'all caught up in the web,
but you ain't Spiderman.
More like I'm all stuck,
trying to reach the flame.
And I don't give a * about your quest for fame.
Y'all lame ducks.
Y'all tame pups.
Y'all brainstuff on stupid and you can't bush.
That just ain't us.
Situations change,
our conditions rearrange,
and nevertheless we came up.
And never gave up, I guess you could blame us.
For adapting to some strange stuff,
we hang tough.
All I do is rhyme.
All y'all do is whine.
I'm going in this time.
I'm going in the mind.
Into the murky depths of the human soul.
Money movers moving out of step towards a foolish goal.
Y'all don't even know it yet.
You have lost all control.
Don't believe what they told in the septacle.
In the septacle.
In the septacle.
Don't believe what they told in the septacle.
Bet your bottom dollar that this * is gonna change.
All the people holler that we gotta maintain.
All the people awkward looking at each other strange.
Staring at they phones instead of looking in my face.
I really start to wonder what the * is going on.
Kids stay in the crib watching porn,
jerking off.
Blogging about the tweet,
about the bond,
about the vlog,
about the snapchat,
then backtrack to make it sound hard.
* is honestly odd to me.
But I've adapted the fact that this rap * is more about theatrics.
So what you wanna do?
What you wanna do?
I wanna start a revolution and my homegirls do too.
Temperatures rising and so is deceit.
High tide in the city we reside in the meat.
Time I'm seeking high ground.
Ask me why I'm high now.
Look around and see what I found.
All I do is rhyme.
All y'all do is rhyme.
I'm going in this time.
I'm going in the mind.
Into the murky depths of the human soul.
Money movers moving out of step towards a foolish goal.
Y'all don't even know it yet.
You have lost all control.
Don't believe what they told in the septacle.
In the septacle.
In the septacle.
Don't believe what they told in the septacle.
In the
septacle.!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Rhyme is reflex,
in times of defects,
no shine it reflects,
just shrines to rejects,
my lines are bereft,
like highs that seem swift,
so fly you fall quick,
goodbye to y'all kids that died to be this,
I sigh and see gifts,
in eyes and sleep with,
some dreams that leak wit,
obscene belief *,
I've been scheming with behemoths,
who snort benzine,
till they see * I'm sweenish,
demons in my REM sleep get,
awakened from the shaking from the bass of the beat,
quite frequent,
like a leg kick,
from a newly dead shtick,
one last nervous tick,
is the act you murdered it,
it's strangely the same,
deranged and sustained,
I never really changed,
since I saw it all arranged,
but the rules of the game never fixed,
this hit me,
and that was it,
pack a bag and split,
taken up the drag of the spliff,
then spit,
then quit,
fixed on the friction,
the system's sick,